


The Infernal Plan

by likebunnies



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, F/M, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-26 02:22:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 100,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/960459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likebunnies/pseuds/likebunnies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during and after their sixth year at Hogwarts, Hermione asks something of Harry that will change their lives forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Possible spoilers for all the books but mostly the first five. Most of this was originally written well before The Order of the Phoenix came out but I decided to go back and do some edits. Some were very necessary while others were more cosmetic. The first part was originally a stand alone and posted in 2003. The rest of the chapters followed and then I got stuck. Now after years, I gave it an ending. Not the best ending, but an ending. And since it has taken so long, it has fallen into AU territory. -- Jori 
> 
> This world belongs to JK Rowling. Thank you for all the fun.

For the first time since he had met her, Harry thought that Hermione actually looked sad to be returning to Hogwarts. She was always usually so happy to get back to her studies but something about her had changed. She looked as gloomy as Harry felt. After everything that had happened last year, he had found it peculiar that she didn't want to come stay at the Weasley's the last few weeks of their summer holiday. Harry missed her more than he imagined he ever would and often found himself wishing he could tell her about what he had learned at the end of the last school year. Now she looked too distracted to care.

He also found it peculiar when she was so late arriving to Platform 9 3/4 for their trip back to school. Looking at the expression on her face as she sat across from him in their compartment, he knew something was wrong.

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes as Ron shoved more candy into his mouth and went back to staring out the window as the countryside flew by them. At least his two friends weren't bickering constantly anymore. Harry had tried asking her questions about her summer but so far, she wasn't sharing much with him.

"I thought we would at least have met up when you came to Diagon Alley to buy your supplies. When did you get your supplies, anyway?" Harry asked and Hermione just shrugged without answering. Now he was positive that something was bothering her. Hermione loved reading her new texts before the year started and he was certain she would want to discuss them at length. She hardly even mentioned her scores from her O.W.L. exams nor had she asked Harry about his. 

She could have at least asked them how their holiday was but she didn't even do that. Maybe she assumed that Harry's summer holiday with the Dursley's was like all the others until the Weasley's rescued him. They all seemed to still be avoiding one particular topic and that was fine with him. He still wasn't sure he could talk about it without his voice cracking. 

She just sat and sighed some more. He didn't understand girls and it didn't matter if he was dating them or not. At least with Hermione, he could usually carry on a conversation without sounding like too big of a git but he wasn't sure what to say to her.

"So, Hermione . . ." he started only to be interrupted by Ron's younger sister, Ginny storming into the compartment.

"There you are!" she said, sitting down next to Hermione and not even giving Ron or Harry a second glance. "I was upset when you decided not to come to The Burrow. You have to tell me all about him."

"Him?" Harry and Ron said at the same time, only Ron with a mouthful of chocolate and a touch more jealousy.

Before Hermione could respond to either of them, Ginny started in with a thousand questions. Somewhere in between their giggling and whispers, Harry gleaned that the boy's name was Andrew Rowntree but his friends called him Drew and he had moved to the street Hermione lived on sometime last spring. Something about that finally clicked in Ron's brain after the two girls had carried on for about five minutes.

"A Muggle boy? You're seeing a Muggle?" he asked without candy in his mouth this time. Harry couldn't help but notice that even though the chocolate was gone, the jealousy was still there.

"Of course. What else would be living on my street?" Hermione answered, giving Ron a cross look before carrying on with Ginny.

Harry just stared at Hermione, watching her eyes light up whenever she said the name Drew. It wasn't the first time he had seen his friend talk about boys. There was Viktor Krum a few years ago. Then there was the one quick kiss they had exchanged. Harry was certain the reasons behind it had more to do with the fact that they had just survived something unspeakable than that she had any feelings for him beyond friendship. It happened quickly, late at night after the feast he didn't bother to go to and was never mentioned again. At that time, he had too many other things on his mind to even consider that it meant anything. Besides, if it had meant something, surely someone would have said something by now. And there wouldn't be Drew.

This boyfriend wouldn't have to worry about her study habits or the secret kiss she exchanged with her best friend once when no one was looking. He would just see her during holidays and there was a good chance . . .

"He doesn't know what you are, does he? He doesn't know that you're a witch," Harry said, interrupting Ginny.

"Of course not. I mean, not yet anyway," Hermione answered.

"So, how do you plan on staying in contact with him? Surely you can't send him a letter by owl," Ron said, sounding a little too hopeful that would put an end to it. Harry had hoped that Ron was over it by now. His feelings for Hermione weren't returned as far as he knew, leaving Harry to worry that one day it would pull his best friends apart. So far, they had much more serious forces trying to pull them apart besides an adolescent crush.

"I have it all arranged with my parents. I'll have the mail delivered to them and they can forward it on to Drew," she said, making it sound like everyone should have already known this. "And then I told him to drop off any letters at my house and my parents would take them to the post. That way he wouldn't have to spend any extra money on them."

"But won't he be expecting you to ring him up on one of those tele-things?" Ron asked, still trying to find something wrong with this whole thing.

"I told him we had no telephone privileges at my school. Besides, I'll see him again at Christmas. It's not that far off," she said, turning her attention back towards Ginny.

It was only then that Harry felt a slight twinge of jealousy. He was sure it wasn't so much that Hermione had met someone that was bothering him as it was she had someone to go home to over Christmas and now he really had nowhere to go. The way his life was going, chances are he never would.

Hermione said something to Ginny which caused both of them to giggle like schoolgirls some more. It was very out of character for Hermione and Ron just stared at her with his mouth hanging open, looking quite stunned. It was then that Harry realized that this was going to be a long year.

*************

Most everything between the three friends had nearly returned to normal once classes started. Hermione had her mind on her studies instead of Drew and that made Ron happy. Harry (having had his lifetime Quidditch ban lifted) was Gryffindor's Quidditch captain and barely had time to think about Hermione once the season began. When he did get a chance to consider it, he was just thankful that Ron stopped staring at her with this sad look on his face. And he was most grateful that Hermione and Ginny stopped giggling about the whole thing.

Harry was so involved with his studies and Quidditch that he didn't even think about the holidays until the weather reminded him that they were coming closer to the end of the term. Ron was staying with him over the holidays but he could tell by the number of letters that Hermione was sending and receiving that she had better plans than staying with her friends. She would read her letters from Drew and smile before tucking them into whatever book she was carrying that day.

Ron didn't even make fun of this habit anymore nor did he comment on the number of owls that were coming to her. Hermione would get all dreamy over some letter or bit of artwork that Drew would send but Ron did his best to ignore the whole situation. Harry just wondered what it would be like on the receiving end of a letter like that. Sixteen years and he still didn't really know. The whole thing with Cho fell apart before it could get that far. 

Perhaps if he could spend all summer somewhere else besides with his aunt and uncle, he might find out but that was out of the question. Then again, he wasn't so sure he wanted to date a Muggle. Hermione didn't mind growing up with them because they were her parents and her parents loved her very much. Harry hated every minute of his life with them and wasn't sure what other Muggles would think of him.

If Harry couldn't find anyone that way, he would have to look around here with more seriousness. He gazed around the great hall and realized he didn't feel like getting to know anyone like that. Everyone knew too much about him but didn't really know him. Ginny knew him but was his best friend's little sister and he wasn't sure he wanted to go there just yet. So there was no one. It was if they were all on the outside looking in upon a life they could never understand. 

Looking at Hermione, he realized that she was one of the few girls he knew who had always been on the inside. Too bad that she was just his friend and wouldn't want to be anything more.

"Harry, can we speak about something after potions?" she asked, interrupting his thoughts. Before he got a chance to answer, she focused on Ron. "Alone, that is."

"Er . . . of course . . . where? The library?" he asked, catching the most pained look from Ron.

"More alone than that," she said and they arranged to meet out by the lake despite the cold. Harry watched as she ran off, probably to write another letter to Drew.

"That girl has become more mental since she got a boyfriend," Ron said, his eyes following her out of the hall.

"Come on now, Ron. You know you're only saying that because she's got a boyfriend who isn't you," Harry said and although Ron denied it for the next five minutes straight, he knew that was the truth.

************

Shivering, Harry waited by the lake for Hermione. He checked his watch and realized he hadn't been waiting that long, it just felt like it. He couldn't even imagine what she wanted from him that couldn't be discussed inside, perhaps in the common room by the fire.

Finally, he saw her walking towards him, her mouth moving as if she was rehearsing what she was going to say. She moved her hands in an imploring manner and he couldn't imagine what Hermione was up to.

He knew she had seen him watching her when she put her gloved hands down and her mouth stopped moving. Instead, she stopped walking for a moment, collecting herself before she approached him.

"Hello, Harry," she said, looking around although she had to know by now they were the only two out in the cold.

"Hello," he said and then they both stood there, breath puffing white before them. "What's this about then?"

"It's about Drew," Hermione said and Harry just nodded. He should have figured as much. All Hermione discussed anymore was Drew or Arithmancy or Drew or what career she was considering that day or Drew.

"We all know about Drew. Why couldn't we discuss him in the library?" Harry asked, getting irritated at how cold his feet were.

"Because I have to ask you a favor," she said, her eyes shifting away from him. "I want to give Drew something for Christmas and . . . and I need some help."

"You need help picking out a Muggle gift? I can tell you what Dudley likes to receive . . . pretty much anything but it's usually all broken by the time I get back," Harry said and Hermione bit her bottom lip. That obviously wasn't it.

"No, I know what I want to give him for Christmas," Hermione said and Harry, puzzled, stood there shaking his head.

"Then what did you need me for?" he asked, realizing that if she didn't get to the point soon, he would no longer be able to feel the tip of his nose.

"Because . . . Harry, I want to . . . oh, blast! I want to sleep with him," she blurted out and Harry took a step back, feeling his jaw drop down at least halfway to the ground at her declaration. Why was she telling him this? Did he want to know this about his best friend? He supposed that if she were Ron, he wouldn't mind hearing this but she wasn't Ron. She was a girl. She was not just any girl. She was Hermione.

Once he could find his tongue again, he asked, "What do you need me for? I think that's something you can do without me. I'm -- I'm not even sure why you're telling me this."

"I'm telling you this because I do need your help. I've been reading up on it and --"

"You've been reading up on it? What have you been reading?" Harry asked, not finding it too hard to imagine Hermione searching through the library for books on sex and coming across 'The History of Shagging: A Young Wizard's Guide' or something very much like it. If such a book did exist, he was sure it wouldn't stay in the library for long, especially if it came with wizard pictures. Maybe Madam Pince has a special restricted area for them that Hermione managed to sneak into.

"It's a Muggle book. A novel, actually. Something my cousin had that I borrowed," Hermione said. Harry was sure she didn't exactly borrow it but that was the least of his concerns right now.

"Hermione, I still don't . . ." he started to say but she interrupted him.

"From what I understand, the first time for the woman isn't always pleasant," she said and now his eyes grew wide. When one lived in the Dursley household, one didn't learn that much about sex. One never asked questions about it, either. He was certain they told him nothing in hopes that it would prevent him from going out and reproducing more of his 'type.' Everything he did know came from television (when Dudley would let him watch) and a few hushed discussions they had at school. His most reliable information came from Ron's brothers deciding it was time for Harry to learn the facts of life.

"And?"

"I would like to get that part over with before I do it with him," she said in her usual matter-of-fact tone.

When it finally dawned on him exactly what she was getting at, his eyes grew even wider. Hermione had actually been planning this and studying up on it and she was asking him . . . maybe he was confused. Maybe he was reading her all wrong. Maybe this Chosen One thing was going to far. 

"And?" he asked, hoping she'd go on and clear it all up once and for all. She did, but after that the words didn't come so easily to her.

"I'd like you . . . with you. I'd like to try it out and with . . . you," she said, her hands moving quickly now as she jumbled up her words. 

"Try it out? With me? Like I'm some musty old broomstick you want to take out for a test flight?" he asked and she shook her head.

"No, it's not like that at all," she said.

He felt that he needed to sit down if this conversation was going to continue. She followed him to their usual spot and sat down close to him, both of them shivering now.

"Why me?" he asked and she stared out at the lake for a long while before saying anything else.

"Aren't you at least a little bit curious about it all? About what it's like?" she asked.

"Of course I am but . . . how do you know I haven't already?" he asked, slightly offended that she didn't even stop to consider that maybe he had.

"Come on, Harry, I know you and your luck with girls. But if you don't want to, I could ask Ron," she said, and for some reason, that made his stomach flip flop. The thought of her and Ron . . . of Ron getting that. . . he didn't know what he thought of it.

"Why didn't you?" Harry asked.

"Because of Ron's feelings towards me. With you, it's different. You don't think of me like that," she said.

"I don't?" he asked.

"Of course not. If you did, then after we kissed . . ." she trailed off as he sighed. Their one kiss. A secret, something never to be mentioned though he never knew why. "You don't, do you?"

"Of course not," he said because that seemed to be what she most wanted to hear.

"Then the answer is yes?"

Something very primal and teenage rose up in him and he wanted to say yes but he stopped himself. If she cared for this Drew as much as she said she did, why would she be worried about the first time? He stared at Hermione and she must have grown uncomfortable because she looked away.

"Can I think about it? For just a day? Unless you planned on -- you weren't thinking we'd do it now?" he asked and she let out an exasperated sigh before getting up.

"Most other boys wouldn't have to think about it," she said, leaving him there at the side of the lake.

It was then that he realized maybe all those people were right. Maybe he just wasn't most other boys.

*************

He watched her across the common room, talking to Ron. They laughed at something and he felt a little pang of jealousy move through him. Maybe she was asking him now since Harry said he needed a day to think about it.

It.

Just thinking about it sent a warm tingle racing through him and he was sure he was blushing. He held up his spell book so they wouldn't be able to see his face but he could still see them over top of it. Listening carefully, Harry only relaxed when he realized that Hermione wasn't asking Ron what she had asked him.

He stared at his homework without reading a single word of it. Instead, he tried to figure out why he would care if Hermione did ask Ron or any one else for that matter. It's not like she would ever be his, not when she had the remarkable Drew to go home to. Now he wished he had listened to more of her and Ginny's discussions about this Drew person. How long did she know him at home, anyway? A few weeks? A month at the most? Not long enough, that was sure. And why was he so damn jealous of everybody else when he was the one she asked? That had to mean something, didn't it?

Instead of thinking anymore about all these feelings he had swimming through him, he tried harder to study his book. Before he knew it, the room had grown quiet as most of his house members had gone up to bed. He put the book down and found that there was only one person left there with him. Hermione was staring directly at him and he found himself blushing again. Until she suggested that they do this . . . do it . . . had he ever thought of her like that before? Yes, he supposed he had even if he would never admit it. That one kiss had certainly kept him up all night. Or maybe that was due to the fact that he had almost been killed. Again. And he had gotten Sirius killed and nearly cost all his friends their lives.

"So?" she asked, cocking her head to the side.

"Yes," he said, this time without any hesitation and her mouth dropped open a little. He fought this urge to get up and kiss her to seal the deal but that wasn't what this was about. "So, when?"

"When what?" she asked as if she had forgotten what this was all about in the first place.

"When did you want to . . ." he started to ask but she cut him off with a rather loud 'shush!'

"Do you want people to hear?" she asked, looking around the empty room. A sudden look of realization replaced the one of slight shock and she hurried over to her books and pulled out her schedule. Harry knew it well. Hermione always had everything mapped out on a schedule and it would all probably go as exactly as she had planned if he and Ron didn't go mucking things up.

Sitting down close to him, she started looking through all her notes until she came to the right page. Funny how Harry had never really noticed that her hair was so different from when they first met. It no longer constantly flew out in every direction but was often smoothed down. He reached out and touched it, expecting her to pull away. She didn't. Instead, she gave him this odd look as she brushed his hand away.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, touching her hair where his hand had just been.

"No, not at all. What do we have here?" he asked, looking at her schedule. She was still calculating something, counting off days or hours or minutes on her fingers as she mapped everything out. Finally, she came up with an answer for him.

"I think the best time, considering we're hardly ever alone, would be when everyone else is off at Hogsmeade. We'll make an excuse . . ."

"And miss an outing to Hogsmeade?" Harry asked, his voice rising in surprise. She rolled her eyes at him and made a sound of exasperation.

"Priorities, Harry. What's more important? Getting this out of the way or visiting Honeyduke's?" Hermione asked and he looked at the fire for a moment.

"You make it sound like it's going to be a dreadful chore," he said, slightly disappointed that she thought so.

"I'm sorry. I'm sure it won't be for you anyway," she said and now he looked back at her. Of course Hermione would think everything she read in some book was true and that this was going to be the most miserable thing she had ever done in her life. Why else would she go about doing it with him instead of her beloved Drew? He would be the one having all the fun while Harry got to deal with Hermione and whatever it was that she read in some book.

"So, that's the plan?" he asked, knowing that was far too simple for Hermione.

"Part of it but we can go over the rest of it later," she said, closing up her notes when he tried to take a peek at them. "Do you have any clue what you're doing?"

"Yes," he lied. Maybe it wasn't so much a lie, since he had more than a clue about the biological functions of it all but the rest of it -- whatever it was that made everybody carry on about it -- he wasn't so sure about.

"I'm certain we can figure it out," she said, yawning. "Remember, Saturday before the holidays. That will be the day. You will remember, won't you? You won't go and make any plans with Ron?"

"I'll remember," he answered.

She gathered her belongings together and said goodnight before heading towards her room. Harry sat there wondering how on earth she could think he'd ever forget that particular date.

*************

For the first time in ages, Harry's dreams didn't focus on schoolwork, Quidditch or Voldemort. No, Hermione was quite prominent in his latest dream and he woke up with a start, hoping he didn't blurt anything out in his sleep. As far as he could tell, everyone was still sleeping soundly. After tossing and turning for half an hour, he gave up on falling back to sleep and went quietly to the common room.

Sitting at the table, reading something while lazily stroking her cat, was the star of his dream. He stopped, thinking he could still sneak back into his room without her noticing. He had taken one step backwards when Crookshanks turned towards him and let out a meow. Hermione looked up at Harry and shoved whatever she was reading away quickly.

"Can't sleep?" she asked and he nodded. She wiped the back of her hand over a tired eye. "Worried about something?"

"What on earth could I possibly be worried about?" he asked, sitting down in front of the fire. In a moment, she joined him, carrying Crookshanks in her arms.

"I don't want you to feel pressured," Hermione said and Harry wanted to laugh. No, no pressure at all. A friend asked for a favor and he said yes. Nothing to it. Nothing at all.

"It's only you, Hermione. It's not like I have to face Vol-"

"What do you mean it's only me?" she interrupted. 

"Isn't that how you feel? It's only me so there's nothing to be worried about. Isn't that why you asked me in the first place?" he asked and Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

"No, I asked you because you're my best friend. I trust you with my life," she said. It was funny how that didn't cause him any pressure but the other thing did. Getting through the absolute worst life had to toss at them seemed to be commonplace now. Having sex with his best friend was something else entirely.

"I just feel funny, you know, jumping straight into it and all," Harry said and Hermione took a moment to think about that before coming up with the only practical answer.

"We could try kissing again. Just to see how that turns out," she said in a voice that made it sound an awful lot like an experiment that could go wrong. Maybe that was just Hermione and it had nothing to do with him. He wondered if she said things like that to her boyfriend and what he thought of it. At least Harry had the advantage of knowing Hermione for years.

"We could," Harry said and as if on cue, Crookshanks jumped off of Hermione's lap, allowing them to move closer to each other. They fumbled with where to put their hands and finally he decided if it worked once before with her, it would work again this time. He held her one hand while the other gently pulled her face towards his. Once they finally got it, it was one of the best experiments Harry could remember being involved in.

Her lips opened under his urging, their tongues tentatively testing to see how far they could go. The answer was further than he thought and she moaned softly against his mouth. The sound coupled with the dreamlike visions still dancing around his brain fueled the fire within him and his desire grew with each passing second. Touching the fabric of her robe, he moved a hand down to one of her breasts and she didn't pull way. Instead, she pressed into his touch and another moan crossed her lips. Drawing her close, he felt Hermione pull her hand free from his grasp before placing it on his chest. She broke away from his mouth and he stared at her flushed face, wondering what she was going to do next.

She licked her lips as if she was trying to memorize what he tasted like and he leaned in, wanting to remind her with another kiss. She pushed him back gently and her fingers began fumbling through the buttons on his pajamas top. The common room had grown incredibly warm but he still shivered as she shoved his top and his robe down over his shoulders. She explored his skin with her fingertips, giggling a little when the muscles in his stomach involuntarily fluttered under her touch.

There was no way she could have missed the erection straining against the fabric of his pajamas but if she did see it, she wasn't letting on. She didn't look down or move her hand past his stomach. He wished she would because this was killing him.

"Hermione, please," he said, thinking that he sounded an awful lot like someone suffering through some excruciating form of torture. "Do you want to? Now?"

She finally looked down at his lap and quickly pulled her hand away. "But what about the plans?" she asked as if it really mattered right now. He could care less about her plans right at the moment.

"What would the difference be? A few days?" he asked, watching as she sat there shaking her head.

"It would be different," she said, turning away from him and staring into the fire. He wondered how much thought and planning she had put into this and why? He thought it was supposed to be a quick tumble to see what it's like. What difference would it make if it were now or later?

"Why?" he said. Now he sounded like some desperate teenage boy and he wasn't so sure he liked it. How did she turn him into this so quickly?

"It just would be."

"Then we'll wait," he said, trying to figure out how to escape to the boy's bathroom without her knowing why exactly.

She attempted to straighten out her hair as he pulled his shirt and robe back on. They sat there in uncomfortable silence for a minute before she kissed him goodnight and rushed up to her room, leaving behind all her books. He was tempted to look at the note she hid when he first came into the room but he didn't have the nerve. It was probably just some sappy love letter from her boyfriend. Instead, he made his way to the bathroom, hoping no one else would have to use it in the next few minutes.

*************

"Hello, Harry," Hermione said rather stiffly.

"Hello, Hermione," he said in return.

She sat down opposite him at the table in the great hall and opened a book, barely even picking at her food. He just shoved his last piece of bacon around his plate and watched her read, wondering why this was so uncomfortable. If it's uncomfortable now, he thought, just wait until after they've actually done it.

Harry caught Ron looking at the two of them and rolling his eyes. "Are you two fighting about something?"

"No," they both said at the same time. Hermione's eyes came up off the page and he thought she smiled at him just a little.

"Are you two up to something? You're acting awfully suspicious," Ron said and Harry dropped his fork with a clatter against the plate.

"No," they both said again and this time she did smile at him.

"You are, too! Let me in on it! What kind of plans are you two making?" Ron asked, assuming that they had some sort of mystery to solve or trouble to get out of. There was no way he could ever know about what was really going on.

"It has to do with . . . your . . ." Hermione started, looking imploringly at Harry.

"Your Christmas present . . . and how . . . we're going to . . ." Harry added, not knowing where to go next.

"Afford it. Or get in up into the room," Hermione finished and now Ron looked puzzled. The only one who looked more puzzled was Harry because now he was going to have to figure out what to get Ron that was expensive and hard to get into the room.

"Oh! I can't wait! Can you give me a hint?" Ron asked and Hermione gave Harry an exasperated look.

"Absolutely not," Hermione said. "We wouldn't want to spoil the surprise."

"I bet you can hardly wait until the holidays. Going back to that boyfriend of yours and all," Ron said, still sounding a little jealous over the whole deal. Harry looked down at his untouched food, realizing that inside, he was just as jealous now.

"Yes . . . I am . . . I'm . . ." Hermione started to say and Harry looked up at her. She was staring into his eyes and he could see that she wasn't as excited about it as she had been in the past. Or maybe it was all just in his imagination. "I'm really looking forwards to getting home."

Ron made a huffing sound and went back to eating his toast as Harry and Hermione continued to stare at each other over their mostly untouched meals. It wasn't too much longer until Hermione gathered up her books and left Ron and Harry at the table. Harry quickly made his excuses to Ron and dashed after her.

"What was that about?" Harry asked, catching up to Hermione in the corridor.

"What was what about? You started the story about the Christmas present. What was I supposed to say?" she asked and he just shook his head.

"Any suggestions on what we can buy him? You know this means we have to go to Hogsmeade now so you better start rearranging your plans," Harry said and Hermione looked rather discouraged at that news. It wasn't long until her face lit up, having worked through the problem.

"We'll go and tell Ron that we have to do some shopping together. Alone. If he thinks it's for him, he won't complain," Hermione said. "I'll come back here to get ready and you can pick something up for him at Zonko's or Dervish and Banges."

"Get ready?" he asked and she rolled her eyes at him. "What on earth would you have to get ready for?"

She stopped walking and he had to take a few steps back to where she was standing. Now she was pouting a little and that wasn't something Harry was used to. It was almost as if she expected him to know what she was thinking. Almost as if they were . . . boyfriend and girlfriend.

"Nothing. I don't have to get ready for anything," she said, replacing the pout quickly with her normal expression. "It's just a quick shag, isn't it? Nothing more."

"I guess so," he said, fighting back the hope that maybe it could be or should be more. "Just a quick shag between friends. Just to see what it's like."

"Yes, that's the only reason," Hermione said, looking at him intently. Harry found it quite odd that there was no mention of Drew. That was what this had been about at one time. She wanted to do it with Harry so it would be perfect for Drew. Now, something had changed. Maybe it was something more. "We're going to be late."

Harry realized he was now standing in a nearly empty hall, the rest of the students already in their classrooms. Hermione told him again that they were going to be late before she grabbed his arm, pulling him towards their destination.

***********

Somehow, Harry kept finding new reasons to meet Hermione in the common room in the middle of the night. They usually ended up kissing and fooling around on the biggest couch in front of the fire until all hours, thankful that they were never caught by any fellow housemates. No one ever said anything about Hermione staying up so late as they probably just assumed she was studying like usual. If anyone noticed that Harry was gone half the night lately, no one said a word.

On this particular night, she was resting against him, nestled between his thighs, both of their faces turned to the crackling fire. Occasionally, his hands would wander around, moving over the swell of her breasts and she didn't seem to mind. Actually, he could swear she was pressing further back into him, and he knew she had to be able to feel just how aroused she was making him. Still, she insisted they stick to her original plan.

The problem was, he was now feeling more than just a little jealous about some aspects of the plan. Especially that part of the plan that included her going home to the person she called her boyfriend. The whole situation was confusing the hell out of him. Here she was in his arms every night and would soon be in his bed, yet he knew that she still discussed Drew with Ginny. At least she was kind enough not to mention his name in front of Harry.

Maybe it was the fact that he was never this physically close to anyone in his life or at least the life he could remember. No one ever touched him in the Dursley household unless it was Dudley beating him up. There was a girl in primary school who held his hand one day but the next day she had moved onto an older boy. Too many years had gone by without this and now he craved it and not just from anyone. He craved it from Hermione and that was a problem. How long would she be willing to give this to him? She didn't need it like he did. She had others who loved her.

Hermione turned over and with one quick movement, was straddling him while leaning in for a kiss. The feel of her pressing against his body was almost enough to send him running to the bathroom for relief but he forced himself to endure this. It wasn't that much longer until he would know what she felt like everywhere and he couldn't help but smile against her lips.

"What's so funny?" she asked, breaking their kiss. Her face was flushed and he didn't know if she was aware of the movement she was making with her hips or just how very close they were.

"Nothing. Nothing and everything," he said and she sat up on him, looking puzzled. He wanted to tell her just how he felt but he held back, sure that if he said a word she would run off and not come back for more of this. There was a niggling thought in the back of his mind that he deserved better than all of this but he pushed it away. Maybe this is exactly what he deserved. At one point in his life, it would have been more than he could have ever expected.

"You're still smiling," she said and indeed he was.

"Maybe you don't realize just how good that feels," he said and she froze in place, suddenly aware of her actions. In another second, she was up and off of him and he quickly grabbed for his robe to cover up his lap.

"I'm sorry. It's just not now . . . the plans and all," she said.

"The bloody plans," he said with more than a trace of contempt for those plans apparent in his voice.

"Maybe it would be for the best if we went to bed now. Our own beds, of course. Separately," she said and he nodded in agreement. "And not meet here again until . . . you know."

That he wasn't so much in agreement on but it was only a few days now. He could wait for her and her infernal plans for a few days.

 

*************

Harry and Hermione walked around Hogsmeade, their expressions alternating between giddy and petrified. When anyone called their names, they jumped as if they were found guilty of doing something they shouldn't be. Harry then realized he didn't know if there were any rules at Hogwarts about what they were going to do. If they were caught, what would happen to them? Probably just a letter home to their parents (or guardians in his case) and a lecture on the consequences of their actions. He was also quite sure that Hermione would have checked up on the rules before she even suggested any of this.

And speaking of consequences, he totally forgot about one thing. This did come with consequences and he knew a little about avoiding such things but that was in the Muggle world. Harry grabbed Hermione's hand and pulled her aside down one of the alleys between buildings.

"What's wrong? Have you changed your mind?" she asked, looking a little terrified at the prospect.

"Are you joking? Of course not. I was just worried about . . . you know. Some sort of . . ." he started but couldn't quite get the words out. "What I'm trying to say is I don't think you and I are ready to be raising little wizards just yet and I'm almost positive Drew wouldn't be too pleased with the idea."

It was the first time in a while that he mentioned that boy's name and he couldn't say it without a certain degree if ire in his tone. Hermione just rolled her eyes at him.

"Of course you wouldn't think of this until the last minute . . ."

"It's not quite the last minute. I'm sure there's something here at the shops . . ."

"It's taken care of, Harry. It's all part of the plan and one of the reasons we needed to wait," she said, patting him on the arm reassuringly. He wanted to ask how it was taken care of but perhaps it was just better that he didn't know. "Speaking of plans, I better be going back now. I've made it so that all of your roommates will have no desire to go into your room until later even if they come back from Hogsmeade early."

"How did you do that?" Harry asked but Hermione just smiled without answering. She had been studying an awful lot lately, even more than normal for their end of term exams. That must have been what she was working on. To him, it seemed like a great deal of effort to put into a quick shag that supposedly meant nothing.

"Did you figure out what you're getting for Ron?" she asked and Harry shook his head. "I'll have to send you something to give him if you can't think of anything in the next few minutes."

"I better go find him before he finds us," Harry said, looking down towards the street.

"I'll see you in a few minutes," she said, leaning in to give him a quick kiss. His heart was thumping so hard he found it impossible to believe she couldn't hear it. He watched as she walked away, pulling her cloak around her to keep out the cold air. In less than a minute, Ron did find him.

"How goes it, Harry," he called, looking confused.

"Er -- okay," Harry said, not able to focus much on anything other than Hermione.

"I saw Hermione leaving. Was she taking my present back to Hogwarts?" Ron asked, sounding hopeful.

"Something like that," Harry said, walking towards the street with Ron following him. "You best stay out of the room until we get it put away."

"Oh, I'm not ready to go back yet. None of us are. Seamus and Dean are waiting for us at The Three Broomsticks if you would like to come," Ron said and Harry tried to focus on what he just asked but found he couldn't. "Is there something wrong? Something I should know about?"

"No," Harry said, shaking his head clear. "Nothing bad or anything. I better go help Hermione. She said she might need help with something."

"See you later then," Ron said, not sounding too unhappy that Harry was abandoning him. Maybe Hermione took care of that, too.

"Yes, see you later," Harry said, racing away from him and back towards Hogwarts, any thought of a present for Ron long forgotten.

*************

He found her sitting on the edge of his bed, legs crossed at her ankles, and suddenly she looked a lot younger than her sixteen years. Suddenly, he felt a lot younger than his sixteen years. He was out of breath from rushing back to the castle and the sight of her sitting there waiting for him just added to his breathlessness. She smiled nervously and patted the bed next to her, inviting him over.

Dropping his cloak as he walked closer, he couldn't help but to stare at her face. Her cheeks were still rosy from the cold but was that lipstick she was wearing? Her lips were definitely more glossy than usual and were a soft shade of pink that suited her. Like candy floss that Dudley would bring home from his trips to the amusement park.

"You look nice," he said, knowing he had to say something even though his tongue seemed to be jammed up in his mouth. She smoothed her hand over her hair and smiled nervously at him. She had changed out of her school cloak and was wearing a skirt and a jumper that clung nicely to her curves.

"I see you spent a lot of time on Ron's present," she said and he smiled back at her.

"I . . . couldn't wait another minute."

"So . . ." she said.

"So . . ." he said.

"This seemed so much easier out in the common room when there wasn't a plan," she said, sounding disappointed that all her planning and reading up on everything might be spoiling everything.

"Just relax," he said, more to himself than to her. "I mean, it's just me."

"Right. Just you," she said, putting a hand out to touch his cheek. Her eyes grew softer as her hand brushed down and across his lips. "Just Harry Potter."

He didn't know what she meant by that and he didn't feel like asking now. What he really wanted to do was kiss her. He put his hand behind her head and drew her near, feeling her fingers slip away from his face as their mouths met. It wasn't long until it felt exactly like it did out in the common room. It was just them. Just Harry and Hermione and there was nothing to worry about.

He wanted to touch her. No, needed to touch her. Sliding his hand over her body, he tugged her jumper up. She ended the kiss to allow him to pull it over her head and he couldn't help but to stare at her breasts. Even covered by her simple white bra, they were wonderful things. One of his hands brushed across the soft swell of flesh and she put her hand on top of his, urging him on. Everything was all instinctual now and he was sure that was the only way his body was remembering to breathe.

Harry stopped long enough for them to move further on the bed as he pulled the red curtains closed around them. In doing so, he couldn't help but notice that Hermione had left her wand on his bedside table and he could only imagine what she planned on doing with it. Maybe after they were done, she would use a memory charm on him and he'd never remember it happened. He certainly hoped that wasn't her plan. Or did he?

Turning back towards Hermione, he found she had taken off her shoes and was lying on her side, watching him. Her face was flushed from more than the cold and he noticed that his hands were trembling. He was scared that he was going to mess this up so horribly that she would never speak to him again.

Moving in next to her, they stayed like that for a few minutes, gently kissing one another as his hands slid over the curve of her breasts. With her coaxing, he managed to get the clasp undone and watched as she slowly removed it. His hands were doing more than trembling. No, they were positively shaking now. He closed his eyes and willed for them to stop.

Harry only opened his eyes when he felt Hermione tugging at his clothes, trying to pull his jumper over his head. He sat up and helped, quickly getting off as much clothes as he could. He sent his shoes off the bed and they made a resounding clunk on the floor. It was only when he got down to unfastening his pants that he grew slightly embarrassed. It's only Hermione, he told himself over and over. That didn't seem to help. 'Only Hermione' was now in his bed with him and that changed everything.

"Here, let me help you with that," she said, sounding incredibly calm as her hands went to work without faltering once. When she brushed up against him, he couldn't help but to let out a soft moan and for a second, he was worried this would end before it even started. He had to bite his lip to keep that from happening. Lifting his hips up, he slid his pants off and discarded them over the edge of the bed, leaving him wearing only a sad looking pair of old boxers. She didn't seem to care.

Some primal drive took over at that point and he pulled her closer for another kiss. This time it wasn't just playful soft kisses but something so much deeper. Hermione's mouth parted under his and their tongues danced around, touching and exploring.

His hand slid down to one of her breasts and she groaned, pushing up into his touch. Not sure what she would like next, he tried to figure it out by the sounds she made against his mouth. It was going well so far. The problem still was he was now so painfully aroused he didn't know how much longer he'd be able to take it.

She stopped kissing him when his hand traveled down further, trying to figure out how to get her pleated skirt off. After a few seconds, he gave up and just hiked the thing up as she hurriedly got out of her panties. Apparently, she was as impatient as he was because she didn't even bother to remove her kneesocks.

Hermione shivered in the cold air and before they went any further, they both wriggled their way under his blankets. Harry slipped off his boxers, losing them somewhere in the sheets. They both stared at each other for a moment before she helped him move between her thighs. He fit there so perfectly that he couldn't imagine wanting to be in any other place for the rest of his life.

"Just . . . go slow, okay?" she asked, suddenly looking rather nervous about the whole thing. She was asking the impossible of him but he knew he'd have to try.

"You okay?" he asked, his erection brushing against her warm sex, needing to be inside of her more than he needed anything else on earth. The feel of her body so close to his was amazing.

"Yes," she said and he tried his best to slide into her. After a few failed attempts, she reached between their bodies and helped guide him in. But once he was there . . . wow. He had finally found something better than Quidditch. This was better than the freedom of flying and the joy of winning. This was magic like he had never experienced before.

"Okay?" he asked again and Hermione grimaced beneath him as he pushed in slowly. He felt something give way and she gasped. Somewhere in his brain, he could feel her nails digging into his back but the sensation of being held so tightly inside of her erased the pain.

"Okay," she squeaked but he could tell she wasn't. Moving her hands from his back, she was pressing up on his chest as if she wanted to push him off but couldn't quite bring herself to do it.

"Want me to stop?" he asked, not sure if he would be able to at his point. He would just have to make himself stop if she asked him to.

"No," she squeaked again. He didn't move. Just stayed right there inside of her body trying to memorize the feel of her like this. "I think for this to work, you have to move."

"Oh, yeah. Right," he said, leaning down to give her a quick kiss. It was then that he realized he was still wearing his glasses but he didn't care. At least that way, he could see so he could memorize all of this. He gently pulled out a little and then thrust back in as slowly as he could. Her legs wrapped up around his waist and with that, he could move in even deeper. She winced just a little as he continued to thrust into her and now he knew what she meant when she told him the first time wasn't always pleasant for the woman. It was certainly pleasant enough for him and he wished he could make it as good for her. That wasn't going to be up to him, though. Someone else was going to get that pleasure. With that thought, he stopped moving for a moment until Hermione urged him on again. Her hands were traveling slowly over his body as if she was also trying to memorize every detail. That pleased him in a funny way.

"Much longer?" she asked and he shook his head. Her hands moved up and pushed his now sweaty fringe away from his forehead. He wasn't too sure he liked that but certainly wasn't in any position to fix it now.

"Not much longer," he answered and pushed into her only a few more times before it was just too much. He gasped and shuddered as he reached his release, collapsing on Hermione as the waves of pleasure washed over him. Now that was definitely better than anything he had ever felt before. That was even better than his eleventh birthday and that was a hard one to top.

He propped himself up on his elbows as he tried to catch his breath. Hermione didn't look unhappy but she didn't exactly look like he felt.

"So, that's all it is? What everybody is always carrying on about so?" she asked and he was sure he wasn't supposed to be offended by that. Maybe if it had been anyone other than Hermione asking, he would have been offended.

"I'm sure it will get better for you," he said, sliding out of her body. A flood of wetness came with him, spreading across his sheets.

"Probably," she said, her fingers still playing with his damp hair.

"I'm sure it will be better with someone you love," he said, feeling his heart sink with those words.

"But . . . but I do . . . I do think so, too," she said, letting her hand fall from his face. She turned her face away from his and for a brief second, he started to regret what they had just done before he told himself not to. He knew what he was doing when he agreed to this and now was not the time to start second guessing his decisions.

He rolled off of her and watched as she opened the curtains around the bed and began gathering up her clothes. She quickly got dressed and smoothed down her skirt. He dug his shorts out of the bed and put them back on when she wasn't looking. The thick smell of sex and sweat permeated the room and he would have to open a window to clear it out as soon as she left.

"How long until everyone will want to get back into the room?" he asked, looking at his watch.

"A few hours," she said and he wished he knew why she was leaving so soon. Instead, he watched as she walked around his bed to retrieve her wand from the table.

"You aren't going to charm me into not remembering any of this?" he asked as she held her wand in her hand. "Or would you prefer it the other way? You want me to make you forget?"

Her face twisted up as she thought about what he just said. "Why would you ask that?"

"You just don't look all that happy," he said, standing up to pull on his pants.

"It's not that . . . oh, never mind," she said and before he could ask her what was the problem, she gave him a kiss. Not just a quick 'goodbye, see you later' kiss, either. This was deep and as passionate as ever and his mouth opened up under hers. Her tongue moved across his and he moaned way back in his throat. She pulled away, her eyes burning with something that was missing while they were having sex.

"I -- don't forget I have to give you money before you leave," Harry said and Hermione really twisted up her face now.

"I know you don't know a lot about women, Harry, having grown up like you did and all, but that's not the best thing to say to a girl who just got out of your bed," Hermione said and Harry smiled and shook his head.

"I meant for Ron's present," he said and now she smiled, too.

"I'm sure I'll see you again before I leave," she said, walking towards the door. "And you'll have to send Hedwig to pick it up. Whatever it is. Say around the 23rd or so? That should be plenty of time."

"Okay," he said. He wasn't ready to see her go just yet, not out of his room or home for Christmas holiday.

"Does this mean you didn't get me a Christmas gift, Harry?" Hermione asked, turning around to look at him from the door.

"Er . . . I, uh, I . . ."

"Don't worry about it," she said with a smile. "You just gave me my Christmas present."

And with that, she was gone.

**************

On the day that the train was leaving with Hermione on it, Harry didn't feel like leaving his room. He didn't want to see her off and he didn't want to see how happy she would look to be going home.

Maybe if he just stayed right here in his bed for the entire holiday, he wouldn't have to think about it. The problem was, his bed now made him think of Hermione in such a way that it actually hurt. He would love to have her back here, under him or over him or anywhere. He swore that her scent was still clinging to his sheets but he knew that was his imagination. And a tiny part of him wished that she had made him forget it all with a flick and a swish of her wand. Then he wouldn't be suffering right now.

When he realized that staying in bed wasn't an option, he got up and dressed, going down to the common room. Ron was there, staring at his chessboard.

"Hey, Harry," he said, motioning for Harry to sit down to play chess and he did. At least it would take his mind off of other things. "You missed seeing Hermione off. She waited around for you and I told her to just go on up to the room but she didn't seem to want to go in there. She told me to give this to you."

Ron handed him a sealed envelope and Harry's fingers couldn't open it fast enough. Ron gave Harry an odd look as he flung the envelope aside, his eyes racing over the words hoping for . . . he didn't know what he was hoping for. Something. Anything.

It wasn't anything. It was actually more like nothing. She let him know that she got the money he left for Ron's present even though she had no clue what to get him. She reminded him to send Hedwig to her on the 23rd and that she was sorry that she missed him today but hoped he had a pleasant holiday and a happy Christmas.

That was it. Harry folded it back up and shoved it into his pocket and plastered on a fake smile when he noticed Ron staring at him.

"Ready to play now?" Ron asked and Harry nodded, forcing himself to focus completely on the chessboard.

For the first in a long time, Harry managed to beat the pants off of Ron in wizard's chess.

*************

Harry went to the top of the West Tower, to the owlery, to wait for Hedwig's return. The large room was colder than usual and he searched long and hard for a spot clean enough to sit down upon. He threw some fresh straw on the cleanest spot he could find and sat down to wait.

He had sent Hedwig out the day before and she should be back at anytime now. He could have waited in his dormitory room for her or just let the present end up in their room the way it always had before, but he was tired of playing chess with Ron or listening to Ginny talk about boys. He was also growing weary of trying to look like nothing was bothering him. He couldn't pinpoint what was bothering him the most but he was pretty certain it was the fact that he was here at school all alone except for Ron and Hermione was out there with . . . him. Someone else. He didn't even want to think about him and what he would be doing with her.

He was willing to admit that it hurt just a little that she could go to bed with him and then just run off to someone else. It hurt that he was just a trial run for her and that she never even stopped to consider that he could be more.

Harry stared up at the few owls that were still here. Most were out delivering Christmas presents or picking them up so they would be here in time. Even Ron's little owl, Pig, was out doing something.

All he sent to Hermione was a letter. He should have had a present to send to her. That was so stupid of him. He was certain that her 'boyfriend' would be giving her a present. Harry shook his head, not wanting to think about what that might be. At the least he would make her one of his silly drawings.

The only thing he wanted to think about less was what she would look like when she came back. Would she be blissfully happy? Would she carry on endlessly about it to Ginny in hushed tones and girlish giggles? Why wasn't there anyone out there who talked about him like that?

Harry's entire body had grown cold and stiff when Hedwig finally returned, swooping through one of the windows and floating down to him. She gently dropped a parcel at his side and fluttered to a stop on a nearby low perch. Harry jumped up and went to her immediately, stroking his pet and thanking her for doing such a good job. He took the letter that was on her leg and she showed her great devotion for Harry by nipping at him a few times. He expected her to fly off to one of the higher perches to get some sleep but as if she sensed that he might need her, she stayed by his side, watching him with wide amber eyes as he opened his letter from Hermione.

Dear Harry,

Hope all is well with you and Ron. Holiday has been okay so far. Hope Ron enjoys his present and have a Happy Christmas.

Hermione

That was all it said. He felt his heart sink in his chest as he sat back down on the pile of clean straw. Hedwig flew down to him and stuck out her leg, wanting to know if he was going to send a letter in return.

"No, that's all right, Hedwig. Thank you. You can go get some rest and I'll see you tomorrow for Christmas," he said, petting his owl one more time before she flapped off to the top of the roost.

He stared at the letter some more, trying to figure it out. Harry finally decided that the problem was there was nothing to figure out. She was happy where she was and knew better than to tell him. She was smart enough to know he didn't want to hear about what went on with her boyfriend while Harry was spending his holidays alone again at Hogwarts. He longed for the days when spending the holiday with only Ron seemed like the best thing in the world but now he was older and he wanted more. What he really wanted was Hermione.

Too bad she didn't want him in return.

To top it off, once she did come back for the next term, he knew nothing was ever going to be the same between them. How could it? He got a taste of something that he wanted more of but she didn't. That would be hanging over them for the rest of their time here.

He stood up, tucked his letter into the pocket of his jeans and brushed the straw off of him. Looking up to make sure that Hedwig was happily resting, he left the owlery behind.

*************

"Happy Christmas, Harry!" Ron called out gleefully as Harry woke up.

"Happy Christmas, Ron," Harry said, reaching for his glasses. He didn't sound quite as cheerful as his friend. He swore to himself that he was going to try his hardest to put all thoughts of what happened with Hermione behind him at least for the day but that wasn't as simple to do as that.

"Come on! Open your presents. Wow! Charlie even sent you something this year," Ron said and Harry sat up in his bed, looking at his pile of presents. Most of them were from the Weasley family and there was one envelope from his aunt and uncle. He didn't need to deal with their nonsense this year and he tossed it aside without looking at it.

Harry went through his few presents quickly, pulling on the sweater Mrs. Weasley made for him as she did every year. His favorite present was the book on dragons that Charlie sent from Romania. He was sure that if Hermione had sent him something, that would have been his favorite but there was nothing here from her.

Ron finally got down to unwrapping whatever it was the Hermione sent from London. His face lit up when he saw it was an assortment of all the latest Quidditch books, most of them about the Chudley Cannons. After a few minutes of examining the books, he looked up at Harry.

"You were worried about sneaking this into the room?" he asked curiously.

"Not exactly. Someday I'll have to tell you the story, just not now. It had to do with something Hermione was going to surprise her boyfriend with," Harry said, forcing himself to talk about at least that much.

"Wonder how that went considering he's no longer her boyfriend," Ron said casually as he continued to look at his books.

"What?" Harry asked, stunned by this news.

"Ginny sent Pig off to Hermione with a little present. Hermione returned Pig with a note telling Ginny all about it. Ginny just got it yesterday. I'm surprised she didn't write to you, too, considering how close you two have been lately," Ron said, thankfully not putting two and two together.

"What happened?" Harry asked, his voice squeaking a little bit with a happiness he'd never be able to explain to Ron.

"I'm not certain, really. Ginny told me it was none of my business but I'm sure it had something to do with how difficult it is to hide what she is. Could you imagine Hermione acting dumb about magic just to attract some Muggle boy? Foolish idea," Ron said and Harry shook his head in agreement.

"When did it happen?"

"If you ask me, it started to fall apart before she ever left for the holiday. Couldn't you tell something was wrong?" Ron asked. Harry shook his head again.

"Er -- no. Not really."

"The rest of us thought she was acting peculiar. Or more peculiar than Hermione usually acts. Figured it had something to do with her boyfriend," Ron said.

"I'll have to ask her when she returns," Harry muttered, fingers running through his messy hair. He wasn't sure if it was good news or bad news just yet but he was hoping for the former.

"Yes, and find out when she'll be ready to date again, will you? I think my time has finally come," Ron said and Harry had no idea what to say to his best friend about that.

*************

Hermione had been back for a few days and had yet to speak a word to Harry outside of their classrooms and a few exchanges in the great room. Actually, it appeared that she was avoiding everyone. He woke up the first Saturday of the term to discover the world was once again blanketed in white. Staring out one of the windows, he saw a small cloaked figure moving through the snow and he dressed quickly to follow her to the lake.

Harry's lungs were nearly bursting from breathing in the frigid air by the time he reached her. She was bundled up better than he was and didn't look all that uncomfortable. He didn't even take the time to put on his warmest socks.

"Hermione, are you ever going to speak to me again?" he asked and she shrugged. "Did I do something wrong?"

"It's Drew," she said and Harry came closer.

"Did he hurt you? Did something happen? If he hurt you, Hermione, I'll . . ."

"We broke up. Not that there was really anything to break up in the first place, but we did."

He tried not to smile or let on that he was happy about this in anyway but it was hard to do. He also knew that he couldn't let on right away that he already knew about any of this.

"Oh?" he asked, his voice rising just a little too high to be upset. He sat down next to her at the side of the lake and stared out over the cold black water.

"It was too complicated. He wanted to know why he couldn't ring me up on the telephone or why he couldn't come visit me on weekends. He couldn't understand why he couldn't just send me mail without having to bring it to my parents," she said, not looking that upset over the whole thing. Instead, she looked . . . disappointed.

"I'm sorry," Harry managed to say but he wasn't certain exactly how sorry he really was.

"And I couldn't tell him about what I am. I felt like I was lying all the time but what if I did tell him and it didn't go well? The Ministry would have to step in and do a memory charm and that would just be one big mess. I guess I didn't think this all out very thoroughly, did I?" Hermione asked and Harry knew that had to hurt to admit. Hermione liked nothing more than thinking and making things work the way they should.

"Some parts of your plan were great," he said and she blushed.

"I think maybe . . . I don't know. I think that maybe I liked the idea of him more than I actually liked him. It was nice to think that somewhere in my life, there was someone waiting for me," she said with a resigned sigh.

"I was waiting for you," he said so softly he wasn't sure she heard him. A little smile tugging at the corner of her mouth let him know she had.

"Or maybe I discovered I really liked the idea of you. I didn't, you know, with him," she said and it felt like she had lifted a huge weight from his chest with just those few words.

"Why not?" Harry asked and at first she just shrugged, not answering right away. "That's okay. If you don't want to talk about it, I understand."

"I didn't because things changed with you, Harry. This turned into something I could never imagine and after we . . . after that day, I couldn't. More than that, I didn't want to. Even if it hadn't ended like it did, I didn't want to with him anymore. I didn't want to with anyone but you," she said and he felt his heart pounding away.

"You don't know how happy that makes me," he said and she nodded. "I tried to write that in a letter but I felt I was being unfair."

"I was the one being unfair. I should have never asked that of you, Harry. I just thought it wouldn't make any difference in our relationship. I thought we could just keep going on as friends but I was wrong," she said.

"So, what are we?" he asked.

"A little more than friends," she said with a smile. "If that's all right with you."

"Of course it's all right with me! Why wouldn't it be?" he asked her and she took a moment to gather her thoughts.

"I never imagined that you could feel that way about me," she said and he gave her an inquisitive look.

"Why not?"

"Because you're him. You're Harry Potter," she said as if that were explanation enough. It wasn't what he wanted to hear from her at all. He stood up quickly and started to walk away from her. Before he could get far, she grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him towards her.

"I'm not Harry Potter. I mean, I am, but there are times I'm not. I thought when I was with you, I wasn't. I'm just me. I'm not *him* all the time," he said, knowing it was all very confusing but if anyone would understand, it would be Hermione. She didn't grow up hearing about the great Harry Potter and the Boy Who Lived. She read about him in a book and it never seemed to matter before now what he was.

"I know that," she said, taking his hands in hers. "I was confused for a while, but I know who you are better than most people. I probably know you better than anyone else on earth."

"You do," he agreed and she pulled him back to where they were sitting, this time holding on to his gloved hands with hers.

"I was worried that others would think I wasn't good enough for you. 'Harry Potter with that Muggle-born girl,' they would all say. 'He could do so much better than that. He is Harry Potter after all.' I couldn't get that out of my mind," Hermione said.

"You know I would never feel that way. I know that everyone has certain expectations of me but they can't tell me what to do or be when it comes to you. They just can't," he said and she smiled. "I can choose my friends or my girlfriends without who I supposedly am getting in the way. Isn't that how I met you in the first place?"

"Something like that. You had no clue who you were then. I like you much better now," she said as he wrapped his arms around her shivering frame.

"But you do know who I am, too. And you know the consequences that come with being my friend. You know that too well," Harry said, smoothing down Hermione's flyaway hair. "When they find out about this, they might come after you with a vengeance. It will be like that for the rest of our lives."

She stiffened in his arms. Maybe she had never thought of them spending their lifetime together or maybe she never considered that they might possibly come after her for this. He didn't know for sure. All he knew was that whatever it was that concerned her quickly passed and once again she was resting comfortably in his arms. Everything around him was bitterly cold except for her.

"You do realize we'll have to tell Ron," Hermione said with a heavy sigh. "And Ginny. And everyone. And what are we going to do this summer? Will I be able to see you? Once my parents know you're more than just a friend, I don't know if they would let you come and stay with us. Maybe I can lie and you can come to France with us. Would you like to see France? I don't think I could bear the thought of you spending the summer with those miserable people if I were in France."

He chuckled at her ramblings and pulled her even closer. "Hermione, can I ask you something?"

"Anything," she said.

"Did you know about this before you left? Before you and I . . ."

She looked down at the ground and he had his answer. She did and that made his heart swell. She knew that it was pretty much over with Drew but still didn't call off her plans.

"You'll have to make more plans, you know. I'm quite certain the school isn't going to give us our own room together no matter who I might be," he said and she pulled away from him, planning already.

"You and I both know most of the secret rooms and hidden entrances in the school. And this place has half a million broom closets that we could visit. And don't forget about your invisibility cloak. We could be doing it right in front of everybody and if we're quiet, they'd never know. Or the Room of Requirement. Can you imagine how much fun that could be," she said, turning to him. Her eyes were glowing with the same happiness she had when the term first began and she would discuss Drew. Actually, in Harry's opinion, she appeared even happier.

"Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"I know the first time wasn't all that great and all. It's just that I never really had the chance to learn what to do and I'm sorry," he said, sounding genuinely apologetic for how it had gone.

"I think I have something that might help," Hermione said, her cheeks turning scarlet again.

"You do?" he asked and she fumbled around inside her cloak before pulling out a small book. Leave it to Hermione to think whatever he needed could be found in a book.

Harry looked at the cover and his eyes grew wide. "Where did you find this? And who let you buy it?" he asked, watching as the small figures moved over one another, a tangle of arms and legs.

"Don't get too excited. That's the only picture and they weren't doing *that* when I bought it. That's how I got away with it," Hermione said. Harry flipped the book open to find that she wasn't lying. The rest was all text but the words it contained held his attention and sent a shock of arousal through his body. That arousal was stirred up even more when he closed the book and examined what the people on the front were doing now.

"That's quite a picture," he said, turning the book sideways to examine it further. "We're definitely going to have to try that soon."

"How soon?" Hermione asked with a playful flash in her eyes.

He stood up and put the book away in his cloak before offering her a hand. She took it and fell into his arms, laughing. "Remember that empty classroom no one ever uses?" he asked and she nodded. "How would now fit into your plans?"

"Now would fit perfectly," she said right before they raced each other through the snow back to the castle.

**********

To Be Continued . . .


	2. Chapter 2

For the first time in ages, Harry Potter was going to be late to a Quidditch match. Or maybe it was the first time ever. He couldn't remember ever being late before to something as important as Quidditch. He was on his way out of the castle when Hermione caught him up in the common room and said she'd walk out with him but she had to find something in her dormitory first. He nearly told her no but she gave him this look -- one that made him glad that he already had his Quidditch robes on -- and at that point he would have followed her anywhere. Now he was beginning to regret being so easily enticed by the thought of spending a few minutes alone with his girlfriend, who was the first witch in ages who managed to get her boyfriend up to her room without the stairs turning into a slide. He was never so pleased (and a little disturbed) with her cleverness as when she showed him that she figured out how to charm the stairs into believing that he was also a girl. 

"Hermione, I need to go. I should be out there already . . . I'm team captain and it won't look good if I'm the last one there," Harry pleaded, watching as Hermione flitted quickly around her dormitory room looking for something. She really was looking for something. He had been hoping it was a ploy to get him up here for a couple of quick good luck kisses before he had to run off to the match but he was wrong. 

"I promise that you won't be late," she said, stopping to dig through her trunk one more time. "Besides, can they even start the match without you?"

"I don't want to find out," Harry said, turning away from her as she began to throw personal items from her trunk out upon the bed. He nervously shifted his Firebolt from one hand to the other and looked at his watch once more. 

If he wasn't going to be late, he certainly was going to be cutting it close. Sure, there was a whole hour before the match actually began but ever since he was made captain, he liked to be there early enough to go through strategy with his team members. 

"This might be it . . . damn. No, it's not," Hermione said, giving her trunk a kick. The lid slammed shut and Harry turned to her.

"What could be so important?" he asked. 

"You'll see," she sort of mumbled and Harry decided to look at the items Hermione had on her bedside table. He was hardly ever in her room and she hadn't been back in his room since . . . before Christmas. The thought of the last time she was in his room brought a warm flush to his cheeks and he turned a little so she wouldn't notice. In doing so, he spotted some drawings he had never seen before and he picked one up. It was then that he realized why he had never seen them before -- it was signed by Drew in a big, fancy scrawl. While she was still distracted, Harry picked up another one and looked it over. 

This one had the same girlish (in Harry's opinion) signature on it but instead of it being a still life, the subject was Hermione. She was in some room he had never seen before reading a book and he hated to admit it, but the sketch was incredible. A tiny pang of jealousy stirred around inside of him and he had to remind himself that Hermione chose him, not Drew. 

"I found it!" Hermione exclaimed, turning to find Harry with the artwork in his hands. He gave her a quizzical look and she shrugged her shoulders. "Oh. Those."

"They are rather good," Harry said, putting them back where he found them. 

"Are you jealous of him?" she asked, coming to his side. 

"I don't know," he answered honestly. 

"I wouldn't be if I were you. Oh blast. I'm running out," Hermione said, setting the bottle she was searching for down on her bedside table. It was an unlabeled plain brown bottle filled with some sort of liquid. She reached for a glass and poured out a tiny bit of the bottle's contents, checking her measurements carefully before swallowing it. 

"What . . . what is that?" Harry asked as Hermione grimaced at the taste. 

"That, Harry, is for later after you win the match," she said, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. 

"I don't understand."

"I have something planned for you but I have to take this potion first so nothing . . . unplanned . . . happens. One dose along with certain charms is supposed to be effective for a month or two but I don't want to experiment with that theory right now. This is why you shouldn't be jealous of a few old drawings. It's you I want to be with. Just you," she said, taking his free hand and turning him towards her. Her other hand ran up the front of his scarlet Quidditch robe and her eyes danced over his face. "Do you even know how good you look wearing this? It's a shame you're late . . ."

"Yeah . . . late," he managed to mumble.

She pulled his head down and met his lips with hers. Her tongue quickly swept into his mouth and he nearly dropped his Firebolt. Could they start the match without him? If it meant he could be with Hermione, it was almost worth finding out. Almost. But she did promise him that they would be together later and if that wasn't incentive for catching that damn Snitch fast, he didn't know what was. 

Hermione pulled away, her eyes twinkling. Harry closed his eyes, trying to make his body understand that it was just going to have wait for a while. 

"We better go," she said and he looked at her again. 

"What are the plans for later?" he asked, hoping to have a little something to hold onto, but instead of answering, she smiled and turned to leave the room. 

*************

They really needed to find better beaters for the Gryffindor house team. 

Harry had only two thoughts in his head as a Bludger knocked him from his broom and finding new beaters was the first of those thoughts. Since Fred and George left Hogwarts, he was getting hit far too often by these bloody things. They had just added another new chaser this year and she was great but as for beaters . . . they were sadly deficient in that area. 

The second thought was that if he broke anything at all, it would most certainly ruin all of Hermione's plans for that night. 

He could feel her eyes focused on him as his body traveled towards the ground and he was quite certain of her expression. Shock. Dismay. Disappointment. It wasn't the first time she had seen him take a tumble off his broom though falling to his death would certainly be a new thing for both of them. 

The ground finally caught up with him and he hit it with the normal thud one makes when they fall off a broomstick from a great height. Everything started to swirl around him and the pain from his left leg was unlike anything he had ever experienced since the last time he broke something. Yet, through the blackness that was threatening to engulf him and the intense stabbing pain that now seemed to be coming from everywhere, he could hear Hermione calling his name. Even over the screaming crowd, hers was the only voice he could hear clearly. 

Then he had a third and final thought. While he could still move, Harry held up his hand with the Golden Snitch fluttering in his grasp and the crowd started shouting louder. Gryffindor had won over Hufflepuff and instead of enjoying the victory celebration Hermione had promised, he was going to be in the hospital wing. 

"Oh, Merlin's balls," he muttered in exasperation before everything around him faded slowly to black. 

**********

"Come on, we're going to miss the celebration."

"I want to stay here." 

The words worked slowly through his head, as if someone was talking to him from under a deep pool of water. It was Ron's voice. And Hermione's. That much he was sure of even if he couldn't open his eyes. He focused and soon the water began to drain away and he could hear them a little more clearly, as if his ears were only under the water in a small bathtub. 

"You heard what Madam Pomfrey said -- he won't be awake until tomorrow at the earliest. Quite a nasty fall he took and all," Ron said and in his mind, Harry could picture the fall over and over again, but from different angles as if he weren't the one falling from the sky. It was a rather odd sensation. 

"I'm staying."

"We can come back after everything has quieted down for the night. Madam Pomfrey said we could . . ."

"I. Am. Staying," she said more insistently this time and Harry smiled. Actually, the image of him in his head falling to the ground smiled since he couldn't. He didn't blame Ron for wanting to go to the party, since he had blocked so many goals this game, but he was glad that Hermione wanted to stay with him even if he couldn't tell her so.

"Have it your way then. It's not like he hasn't been here before and survived without someone standing vigil at his bedside," Ron said. 

"Go have fun, Ron. I'm staying with Harry," Hermione said. Harry felt a light touch run down his arm and he struggled to reach for it. 

"Someone who didn't know better would think you have a crush on him. You're almost acting like Ginny."

"Oh, Ron! This is Harry we're talking about. Just go to the party," Hermione said and Harry heard Ron shuffle away quickly. She took Harry's hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. It took all his concentration, but he somehow managed to squeeze back. 

"So, you are in there, are you?" He squeezed again, unable to speak just yet. He was getting so very tired, though, and didn't know how long he'd be able to keep himself this aware. "We're going to have to tell him soon."

A light squeeze this time.

"I was so worried that this time you were dead," Hermione said with a sigh. He felt the hand that wasn't holding his travel over his body slowly. "I really had some wonderful things planned. You do realize you ruined all of my plans, don't you?"

Another squeeze. A stronger, longer one, trying to reassure her that, since he wasn't dead, whatever she had planned could be rescheduled for a night where he could actually open his eyes. 

"That's okay. I'm just glad you're alive and you didn't break anything too important," she said. He felt a kiss on his cheek, warm and soft, and with that, he drifted off again. 

**********

When he could finally open his eyes, Harry had no idea exactly how long he had been in hospital. All he was aware of was that Hermione had come and gone several different times and that when Ron was with, he sounded anxious to get her out of there and then sounded quite concerned when she wouldn't leave. 

Harry pulled himself up so he was sitting and reached for his glasses. It was late at night but it only took a few minutes until Madam Pomfrey came to check on him. 

"One of these days, Mr. Potter," she said as she busied herself examining his leg. 

"We won," Harry said as if that made up for whatever damage he did to his body. 

"This time," Madam Pomfrey muttered. "Your leg has mended and you're free to go. Try to remember that it's important to hold onto the broomstick."

"I will," he said with a grin, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. The one was still sore but he was quite anxious to get out of here and back to the Gryffindor common room. There was a chance that Hermione was still awake, lost in her studies and he really wanted to see her. 

Once he was dressed in the jeans and shirt someone had left for him, he rushed through the corridors and up the stairs until he got to the portrait of the Fat Lady. "Password?" she asked sleepily and Harry was quite relieved that it hadn't been changed since he ended up in the hospital wing. 

Hermione was still up doing her homework at the long table, Crookshanks trying to make himself comfortable on her books. The cat lifted his head off his paws and gave Harry a sleepy meow, distracting Hermione from her studies. She looked up, giving him a wide, glowing smile that he couldn't help but to return. 

Ron was also up, right at her side and he also smiled but not quite like hers. His was more of a lopsided grin, as if Harry was interrupting something of vast importance. "All right, Harry?" Ron asked. 

"All right," he answered and Hermione tidied up her books to make room for him at the table, pushing Crookshanks aside. The cat swatted at her and then sauntered off to sleep in front of the fireplace.

"You have a lot of work to catch up on in potions. I think Snape added extra work just because you were out. Oh! Professor Binns assigned an essay and mine is four scrolls long already but I can help you on that. It's rather a simple topic . . ." Hermione said only to be interrupted by a soft 'hmpff' from Ron. 

"Simple for you maybe," Ron said, looking down at the blank scroll before him. "And why won't you help me but you'll help him?"

"Oh, Ron, Harry's been unconscious for three days and he might need a little help with his homework," Hermione said and Ron muttered something and continued to stare at the scroll as if that would put words on it. 

While Ron was distracted with his lack of an essay, Hermione smiled at Harry again and it sent a warmth fluttering all through his body before it settled somewhere just below his stomach. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and she blushed, looking down at the large book in front of her. 

"Would you two like to be alone?" Ron asked in a rather curious tone that took the smile right off of Hermione's face. 

"Why would we?" Harry and Hermione asked at the same time, both of them sounding rather guilty. Ron didn't seem to notice. He just shrugged and yawned rather loudly.

"So you can get started on your homework," he answered, patting his hand over his mouth to stifle the next yawn. "And because I'm tired. I haven't been asleep for the last three days." 

"Er - okay. See you in the morning," Harry said as Ron gathered his books together. 

"Yes. See you at breakfast," Hermione said and Ron retreated towards the boys' dormitory. 

"What was that about then?" Harry asked. Hermione gave him a puzzled look and shook her head. "Ron and you, working so closely."

"Don't tell me you're jealous of your best friend?" Hermione asked, smiling now. 

"I know how that best friend feels about my other best friend. And I know that he doesn't know that I . . . that we are . . . you know," Harry said, blushing a little. 

"Twice, Harry. We've 'you knowed' only twice. Besides, it's not the . . . oh, you know . . ."

"Shagging?" Harry offered up with a quick grin. Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

"It's not that part of it that's important. We're now dating, Harry. How do you think he's going to feel about that when he finds out?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, I'm sure Ron is going to find that other part equally important," Harry said and Hermione cocked her head to the side and studied him. 

"Men," she was all she said after considering it all for a moment. 

"Men! This was all your idea in case you've forgotten. 'I want to try it out with you, Harry. Aren't you curious, Harry?'" he said, doing a poor job of mocking Hermione's voice. She smiled again and shook her head. 

"It was a wonderful idea at that," she said, pushing her books aside and standing up. She stood before Harry and put her hands out to him. "If I recall, you enjoyed yourself immensely."

Putting his hands in hers, he allowed her to pull him out of the chair. They stood there for a minute, rocking in the other's embrace. "But did you enjoy it? The second time that is?" Harry asked.

"It was better than the first time but still I think we need more practice," she said and Harry laughed. He looked over her shoulder to make sure no one was coming down the stairs at this late hour, especially Ron, and then pulled her over in front of the fire. For the second time that night, poor Crookshanks got chased from his spot as they tumbled down onto couch together. 

"What were your plans for the other night?" Harry asked. Hermione was under him, her legs wrapped around his hips, her fingers brushing through his messy hair. When she pulled her hand away, he stroked the soft skin on her cheek and brushed his fingers across her lips. 

"You're just going to have to wait and find out. I'm saving them for another night," Hermione said, kissing his fingertips before pulling his mouth down to hers. Her tongue parted his lips and soon they were wrapped up in a very passionate kiss. 

She ground up against him, pulling away from the kiss and staring into his eyes. "Do you want to? Here?" he asked, desperate for her. 

"We can't," she said, slipping her hand between them and reaching for the zipper on his jeans despite what she was saying.

"Why not? It's still safe, right? With the potion?"

"It's not that. Someone might catch us. Harry, oh, I want to . . . but we can't," she said as he strained to press against her hand. She pulled it away before he got the chance to.

"When can we?" he said, slightly breathless now. They kissed again, her legs wrapping tighter around him as he moved against her. Even through all their clothing, it still felt good. It just wasn't enough. 

Pulling away, she place her hand on his cheek. "I'll start working on new plans as soon as possible. I promise it won't be long. I don't want to wait, either," Hermione said. 

It was then that someone gasped behind them rather loudly.

They both sat up quickly. Lavender Brown was staring at them, a stack of books tucked in one arm, her other hand over her mouth. Hermione quickly went about getting her clothes in back in order and Harry straightened out his glasses that were now teetering on the edge of his nose. 

"I . . . I . . . I couldn't sleep and I was going to catch up on some reading and I didn't . . . wow," Lavender somehow stammered through the grin on her face. "I suspected something might be going on with you two. I suppose we all did over the years but . . ."

"Years?" Harry said, looking at Hermione. Lavender kept on going.

". . . I always suspected it was Ron you liked, not Harry, or at least that Ron liked you. But then there was that boy you met at home and I didn't even think about it anymore. This is going to take everyone by surprise. I'm not surprised but . . ."

"You certainly look surprised," Hermione said and Lavender finally stopped talking. 

"Lavender, please don't tell anyone about this. We only started . . ." Harry began to say but he didn't exactly know what to say they started. 

"Making out in the common room?" Lavender supplied for him. 

"What Harry is trying to say is he's only been my boyfriend since after the Christmas holidays. This hasn't been going on for years," Hermione said, sounding rather astonished that anyone would think so. 

"Ron doesn't know yet. It would be better if he found out from one of us," Harry said and Lavender, who was still grinning, nodded her head. 

"You also better tell Ginny," Lavender said.

Harry rolled his eyes at the thought of telling all the Weasleys the news. "We will."

"I won't say a word about this but I would suggest that until you do tell him, you don't do whatever it was you were doing in such a public place. Anyone could have walked in here," Lavender said, shuffling her books to the other arm. Instead of staying to read, she turned back towards the stairs to the dormitories and left them.

Harry sat back hard against the couch and crossed his arms over his chest. "She won't keep this a secret for long. Do you want to be the one to tell Ron?"

"That wasn't exactly part of my plans," Hermione said. Harry stopped himself from reminding her that none of this was *exactly* part of her plans. 

"I guess I have to. It's not like he hasn't hated me before. I suppose sooner or later, he'll get over this, too," Harry said with a heavy sigh, turning to look at Hermione. He remembered too clearly what it was like when Ron wasn't speaking to him. He was lonely with only Hermione . . . would he be lonely in the same way this time? He wasn't sure but somehow he imagined it wouldn't be the same anymore. 

"Maybe Ron will surprise you. Maybe he'll be happy for us," Hermione said with an outpouring of optimism. 

"Yes, because I know if it was the other way around and you were . . . you know, with Ron, I'd be terribly happy for you," Harry said sarcastically, knowing full well just how miserable he'd feel inside if that was indeed the case. 

************

Harry still hadn't figured out why he signed up for divination again this year. He didn't have to but since he found out about Professor Trelawney's prophesy last year, he had this strange desire to be here in this room with a woman who knew something about him before he was even born. 

Or perhaps it was to remind her that he was still alive despite her years of predicting otherwise. Most days, he found great pleasure just sitting in her class and . . . breathing. 

Today, on the other hand, he wished he could be breathing somewhere else. The air was more perfumed than usual and his eyelids kept fluttering shut. He couldn't imagine how he could be so tired after all those days of being in bed but he had to assume that it had something to do with staying up until sunrise talking to Hermione. 

He had to focus on the task they were doing. It wasn't easy considering Lavender Brown kept giving him a silly look and fogging up his 'Inner Eye.' 

"Mr. Potter, are you hiding something?" Professor Trelawney asked. She was so close to him that he jumped when he heard his name.

"Er . . . no more than usual," Harry said. His mind hurriedly tried to go over any object he might be hiding and all he could come up with was that book Hermione gave him after Christmas. That was hidden away in his trunk. Technically then, he was hiding something. That must be what Professor Trelawney could 'see' if she could see anything at all. But didn't most people hide at least one thing?

"Gazing into your ball, I would have to disagree. Yes, you are hiding something and unless you stop, I cannot say your future will be bright. Or perhaps you have a secret?" she asked and he was quickly growing frustrated. He cast a glance at Lavender. She hid her face but he could tell she was giggling. 

"No, I have no secrets. My life is an open book. As a matter of fact, my life is in books but you know that," Harry said, hoping she would just go away. She didn't. Instead, she stared more intently at the crystal ball in front of him before she gasped. 

"Oh . . . I'm afraid to tell you this . . ."

"I'm going to die before the end of the term. I know," Harry said, sitting back in his chair and shaking his head. If he had a million galleons for every time Professor Trelawney told him he would be dead by term's end and yet somehow managed to stay alive despite her, he'd be an extremely wealthy man. He'd spend some of that money getting her 'Inner Eye' examined, that's for sure. 

Instead of responding to Harry's cheekiness, she moved over to gaze into Ron's ball. "I can see that you're going to be betrayed," she said, moving on without adding more. 

Harry avoided eye contact with Ron for the rest of the class but he couldn't help feeling glad that she didn't tell Ron that he was going to be betrayed by someone who was hiding something. Was what they were doing actually betrayal? He didn't think so but it didn't matter what he thought. It was only going to matter what Ron thought. 

As they made their way out of the North Tower and to their next class, Ron elbowed Harry, grinning. "So, what are you hiding, Harry? I hope it's chocolate -- or the fact that you did my essay for Binns last night instead of coming to bed," Ron said but Harry couldn't quite bring himself to smile. 

"I'm not hiding anything," Harry said, pleading his case once again. Lavender pushed past him right then, still grinning. Harry shot her a dirty look and she whispered something to Parvati Patil. They both turned to look at him and then went back to whispering. This wasn't good, Harry thought as his face flushed scarlet.

"Oh, I know, Harry."

"Good."

"But you should really let me know what you're hiding before you die -- especially if it's valuable," Ron said with a grin. 

"Right," Harry said, not finding any humor in this at all.

*************

Harry knew that Hermione had something big planned for Valentine's Day but he didn't know what. The night before, she spent a long time looking through a pile of spell books at one of the tables in the common room but she wouldn't let him near. He guessed it might be an enchanted card of some sort and all he hoped for was that it didn't sing upon opening it. At breakfast, Hedwig dropped several cards before him and before Ron could say anything, Harry tucked the one with Hermione's handwriting on the envelope away in his books to read later. 

When he finally could read it, he realized why Hermione was smiling all through breakfast. It not only contained a Valentine greeting (complete with a charm to make little red hearts flare up above the card for a few seconds) but described her plans for that evening in detail. A warmth shot through is body just thinking about it and he barely had time to tuck the card away before Ron caught up with him in the corridor. 

"Who sent you Valentines?" Ron asked and Harry shrugged. "Ginny again? I thought so."

Harry didn't correct him. He had received one from Ginny but that wasn't the one he hid. Ginny sent him one every year and most everyone knew it. 

"Who'd you get a card from?" Harry asked, noticing several pink envelopes tucked in one of Ron's books. 

"Oh, just my mum. And Hermione," Ron said with a sly grin as they continued to walk to their first class of the day.

"Hermione?" Harry asked. Hermione said she had to go to the library before class but she would catch up with them. He looked over his shoulder for her but she wasn't behind them. Why would she have sent a card to Ron? 

"Yes, Hermione. Just because she stays up late helping you with your homework doesn't mean that - -"

"There you two are," Hermione said, coming around the corner and interrupting Ron. "We're going to be late for class if we don't hurry and I don't want to serve detention tonight."

"What are you doing tonight?" Ron asked, looking rather puzzled. 

"Knowing Hermione, loads of homework," Harry said and she smiled at him, her eyes twinkling. 

"Oh, yes. Loads," she said 

"That's so very sad," Ron said, shaking his head as he started off towards the classroom before them. 

Hermione took hold of Harry's arm as if she was pulling him towards their destination but he was hoping it was just so she could touch him. He certainly didn't mind the contact. Leaning close enough so that their heads were nearly touching, she whispered, "And I have plans to 'practice' something with a very good friend, too. That is, if that's okay with him. Is it?"

The sound of her voice made Harry's heart race. He was having one of those moments where he couldn't believe someone actually desired him like that and that she needed him as desperately as he needed her. 

"That friend can't imagine anything else he'd rather be practicing," Harry said as she pulled her hand away from his arm, letting her fingers linger on the sleeve of his robe for just a second. 

"Not even Quidditch?" she asked, tilting her head as she waited for his answer. 

He pretended he had to think about it and she punched him lightly on the arm. He then remembered something that came to mind the first (and last) time they were together in his bed and he leaned even closer to her and said, "You're better than Quidditch. You're better than . . . everything."

She smiled brightly and he fought the urge to kiss her right then and there. It was then that Ron turned around and called for them to hurry up and they both quickly took a step away from each other. "Well, are you coming or what?" Ron called again.

"We'll be right there," Harry called back and Ron turned around and continued down the nearly empty corridor. Since no one was paying attention to them, Harry took hold of Hermione's arm, leading her down the hall. "Can I ask you one thing?" 

"What?" Hermione asked.

"Why did you send Ron a Valentine?" he asked, trying not to sound like a possessive boyfriend but failing. "And who sent you those other cards?"

"Jealous, Harry?" Hermione asked, a hint of disapproval at his questions showing up in her voice. 

"I . . . no." 

He wouldn't let himself feel that way. It wasn't easy considering how they got started in the first place but she was with him now and nothing was going to change that. At least nothing he had power over. 

"Good. I only sent him one because I thought it would look rather suspicious if you got one and he didn't. Trust me, Harry, I didn't write the same things in his that I wrote in yours," she answered.

"Good thinking," he said. "About sending him a card that is. Of course, you've always been the smart one."

"And you've always been . . ." Hermione started to say but before she could finish Ron called after them again and they had to race down the corridor to make it in time. 

***********

With great pleasure, Harry couldn't help but notice that Hermione's fingers clutched the paper card he had made for her just like she used to do with the letters she received from Drew. It wasn't much of a card . . . just paper from a scroll folded into a small rectangle with a few words scribbled on it. The card he made didn't even do anything special like sing or burst into hearts but she still held onto it. 

He followed his girlfriend down the deserted corridor, looking back often to make sure Mrs. Norris wasn't out spying on them though on a day like today, Harry assumed the cat had her work cut out for her. He should have grabbed his invisibility cloak before they headed out but his mind could only focus on being with Hermione. 

Reaching their destination, Hermione took her wand out of her robe and unlocked the door. She pulled him into the room and locked the door behind them even though that was often pointless here at Hogwarts. 

"I wanted to do something to the room but I didn't have time with all the homework that was due today," she said, sounding rather disappointed in herself.

With her wand, she made several small flames flicker to life out of nothing and they set the room aglow in shades of pink and yellow. It was just another empty room in the castle, dank and dusty from not being used in a while. Various statues lined the far wall and hanging crooked, one of the ugliest pieces of artwork Harry had ever seen. If it had a human subject, they were out visiting another painting now. He couldn't imagine why they'd want to stay on that ugly canvas anyway. 

Harry stopped staring at the junk stored in the room and that's when he noticed that Hermione had at least supplied them with several blankets and a few pillows, all laid out neatly on the floor. She stepped in front of him and he reached out, brushing her hair to the side. He realized his hands were shaking as if they hadn't done this before. There was one thing that he hadn't managed to make her do yet and he spent part of the afternoon shut behind the curtains on his bed reading their book, determined that this would be the time. He wanted her to enjoy this as much as he did.

Now he just had to figure out how to go about doing that without looking like a blundering idiot. 

Hermione shed her robe, dropping it on the stone floor and his eyes traveled over her body. She was wearing a skirt and although she didn't bother to take it off the last two times they did this, he wanted to see her with absolutely nothing on this time. Except maybe her kneesocks. It was rather drafty in here so maybe she could keep those on. 

He stepped closer to her and, putting his hands around her waist, pulled her near. Their bodies pressed together and he began to slide his hands under her sweater, ready to tug it over her head. 

"This time, can we take it slower?" she whispered and he swallowed hard, not sure how he was going to be able to honor her request. The first time he had no clue what was happening. The second time was all fumbling around in the dark because he still didn't know what was happening. This time he wanted it to be different but he ached for her. 

"Okay," he said, pulling his hands out of her sweater and resting them on her hips. They stood there like that for a while, neither of them making a sound. She looked up at him, her body snuggled close, her eyes searching his. 

"Harry?" 

"Yes?" 

"Not that much slower," she said and he smiled, relieved. 

His hands went back under her jumper, tugging it up and over her head. Harry looked down at the curve of her breasts where her pale skin met the shiny satin of her bra and he had to touch it. His finger ran across the edge of the smooth fabric down to the center and back up the other side, feeling her tremble slightly under his gentle touch. He reached behind her and after a few failed attempts at the clasp, he finally managed to get her bra undone. She slipped it off, letting it fall to the floor. 

After a drawn out moment of admiration, he looked up to find that Hermione was smiling at him. 

"What?" he asked. 

"You," she said, dropping his card and taking his hands in hers, their fingers twining together. 

"What about me?"

"You, Harry Potter, like breasts," she said. A cold gust of air came from seemingly nowhere and she shivered. He pulled one hand free of hers and looked down again, brushing his fingertips against her nipples, feeling them harden even more under his touch. 

"They are rather nice," he said, sinking down to his knees and resting the side of his face against her. He sighed as she ran her fingers through his hair, playing with the unruly strands that wouldn't lie flat. 

"I think I love you," she said, her voice so soft he could barely hear her. "I know I've loved you for a long time as my best friend but now I think I love you more than I ever imagined it was possible to love someone."

Her words tugged at his heart, making it leap from his chest and beat so hard and so fast the sound of it had to be echoing around the castle room. She sunk to her knees before him and the look in her eyes told him that her words were true. 

"I love you, too," he said, drawing her near, leading her into a kiss. There was this moment of fumbling around and of desperation, of hands pushing and pulling and bodies trying to get closer. Then once again, they were just Harry and Hermione, best friends and lovers who were never going to make it as far as the blankets on the other side of the room. 

************

"Do you like that?" Harry asked, his fingers moving carefully between her thighs. She moaned her reply. The cold floor of the castle was beneath them and the only warmth came from where their bodies were in contact. He had her skirt pulled up and her knickers pushed down as he tried his best to figure out what she needed. "Tell me what you like."

"I like you. I like whatever you do," she said, grinding against his touch. 

"Hermione, show me," he whispered and she put her hand over top of his, slowing him down just a bit. He watched her eyes, using her response and her touch as his guide. 

"This -- I like this," she said, turning away from his stare. Was that embarrassment on her face? How could she be embarrassed in front of him? She didn't make a sound as he did this to her. It was the quietest Hermione had ever been in a very long time and he was glad he was the reason. She pulled her hand away, letting him do this himself, and he watched as her mouth dropped open slightly and a barely audible throaty moan escaped past her lips. 

Was she close? How would he know? He hoped she would tell him but she was so lost in the sensations that he wasn't sure she'd be able to. 

It was then that it happened. Her fingers searched the floor beside them, feeling for the long forgotten Valentine she had dropped earlier. She gripped the delicate paper, crinkling it a little as he watched wave after wave of pleasure move over her body. 

"Did you?" he asked just to be sure, his fingers not giving up yet. She gasped and pushed his hand away.

"Yes," she answered, her fingers letting go of the paper and moving to his face. "Wow."

"I told you it would get better with time," he said, sounding so sure of himself now that he could see exactly what his touch could do to her. 

"We aren't done yet," she said, her hands moving from his face and down his chest. Except for his robe, he was still completely dressed, not wanting to stop long enough earlier to do anything about it. 

"No?" he asked, smiling at her.

"We're a long way from done," she said, sitting up next to him and kicking her knickers off the rest of the way. "But can I ask a favor?"

"What?"

"Can we move to the blankets? This floor is hard and my bum is freezing," she asked and he laughed.

"Sure," he said, standing up and offering her his hand. He tugged her up from the ground and once she was standing, she shed her skirt, leaving her nearly naked. Her skin was awash in the shades of the tiny flames that were still flickering all around them and he watched as she, more confident than ever, walked over to the blankets and gestured for him to come join her. He certainly wasn't going to say no at this point. 

She yanked his shirt up and over his head and he watched as her hands unfastened his pants and eased them down over his hips. He was already hard from wanting her. 

"If I have to be naked in this cold and drafty room, so do you," she said, tugging his boxers down a little too quickly. 

"Gently, Hermione," he said, grabbing her hand as he flinched ever so slightly. He stepped out of his shorts and noticed that she was looking him over. He felt a blush creep up his neck and across his face and he looked away when her eyes finally moved up his body and met his. 

"Interesting," Hermione said and he turned to back to find that she was studying him again, her eyes traveling all over his body. It was the first time they were like this, completely naked before each other. Leave it to Hermione to find him 'interesting' right at this moment. 

"Interesting in what way?" he asked, letting go of her hand and crossing his arms over his chest. 

"I just . . . I don't know. It's like I get this part of you no one else can have and there are times I can't believe this is happening. Someday when I'm old and living alone with my books and a lot of cats, I'll look back on all this and remember that I was Harry Potter's first," she said, sounding rather wistful. 

"You make it sound like we won't be together," he said and her eyes met his again. Something in them had changed but he wasn't sure what. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, it was gone. 

"I didn't plan on discussing any of that tonight," she said, going down to her knees and pulling him with. 

"Your plans rarely work out as intended," Harry said, watching as she stretched out across the blanket and parted her legs, waiting for him. 

"No, they don't. But I think what does happen is often better than what I actually planned for," she said as he crawled over to her, fitting himself perfectly between her knees and thighs. She reached between them and helped guide him in and he sighed in contentment as he sunk into her. Everything around them was growing colder but she was so warm. This was truly where he belonged. 

She winced slightly as he pushed in further and he stopped moving. "Does it still hurt?" he asked. 

"We don't do it often enough," she whispered, the feel of her wrapped around him filling his brain with so many sensations at once he could hardly focus on her words. Sliding her hands up his arms and then down over his shoulders, they came to rest on his backside, urging him on. "Move, Harry. Please move."

He did, thrusting into her slowly at first to make sure she was going to be okay. When she didn't say anything else but let out a soft, low moan he moved a little faster, enjoying this quite thoroughly. He couldn't take his eyes off of hers and when she smiled up at him he was certain his heart was going to melt. Just like her, he couldn't believe this was happening in his life. He still couldn't believe he could love someone like he did her and that she loved him back enough to lie under him and give him this. It amazed him to no end. 

Hermione wrapped her legs higher around his waist and he couldn't think about anything but how good it felt. He couldn't imagine that it could get better than this but then she started thrusting back against him and rolling her hips ever so slightly and he knew he couldn't last that much longer. 

She was right -- they needed to do this more often. 

He felt her tighten all her muscles around him (where did she learn to do that?) and he came hard, his body jerking in uncontrollable spasms. She stopped moving under him and just watched and he became quite self-conscious. He was sure that he looked pretty stupid as he gasped for breath and struggled to gain some control. Collapsing on top of her, he tried to catch is breath as he felt her hands wander over his body again, moving to his face and his hair. 

It was growing late and he knew they'd have to get back to the dormitory soon. Hermione had made up the story they'd tell anyone if they asked where they were. Harry hoped Lavender was already in bed and he wouldn't have to meet her knowing stare when they returned. He also hoped Ron was in bed so he wouldn't have to lie to his other best friend. 

"I wish we could spend the night together," Hermione said as Harry slipped out of her body and rolled next to her. She grabbed another blanket so they could wrap up in it and he had to agree that it would be so easy to spend the night with her. 

"Someday we will," he said, pulling her into his arms. "I don't know how or when, but we will."

The lights she created were starting to sputter out and before the final one lost its glow, Harry though he saw something move across the one painting hanging on the wall. Just what he needed was to get caught by some antiquated piece of art. 

"Do we have to go just yet?" Hermione asked into the darkness, wrapping her legs around his. He could feel her warm kneesocks as she ran her foot down his leg and it made him smile. If she didn't want to go, he'd stay here with her for as long as they could get away with it. He'd stay with her forever even if it meant they'd both be expelled. Right now, he didn't care.

"No, we don't have to go yet," he said and Hermione sighed with contentment. 

*************

"Oh!" a voice squealed with delight. "I see that ickle Harry Potter's not so ickle anymore!"

Harry opened his eyes and sat straight up to see Peeves circling above them, casting the only glow in the room. He was doing somersaults in the air and twisting elaborately around the old statues, stopping only when he was directly overhead. Hermione stirred, opened her eyes, and moaned. 

"Damn," she said, pulling the blanket tighter around her and burying her face into the pillow. 

"I'm going to tell everyone that Harry Potter's got himself a girlfriend and she's such a pretty maid," Peeves said, slowing down enough to poke his head between his legs. "He told her that he loved her and then Harry Potter got . . ."

"That's enough!" Harry said, standing up with one of the blankets wrapped around his waist. "Peeves, please don't tell anyone."

"You can't stop me!" Peeves said, circling towards the door. "Who should I tell first? Filch?"

"Peeves, could you please just this once not tell anyone about this," Harry pleaded although he knew it would do no good. 

"Why shouldn't I?" Peeves asked, stopping before he went through the door, probably racing off to let Filch know where to look for them. 

"Because . . ." Harry started but he had no idea what to tell the poltergeist. 

"Oh, go on already, Peeves," Hermione said from beside him. "If you want to tell, go and do it. What are you waiting for?" 

Harry looked down to see her sitting up, still wrapped in a blanket, giving Peeves a quite a serious glare. "Hermione, what are you saying? We'll get in trouble. You'll get in trouble and then there's your parents," Harry said.

"I don't care. Let the whole world know. I love you, Harry, and that's all that matters," she said, looking up at him. Harry turned to Peeves and he didn't look as happy as he did a few seconds ago. Hermione reached out and held his hand and that was all he needed. "Besides, who are they going to believe? You or him?"

"Go on then," Harry said to Peeves confidently, daring him to go out and tell everyone. 

"I know what you're doing! It's going to be a race -- to see if I can tell Filch before you can make it to your rooms where you belong. I love a race!" Peeves said, looking them over. "On the count of three . . . one . . ."

He was gone before he even said two. 

"Blast! What do we do now?" Harry said, pulling his clothes on in the darkness as fast as he could and tossing Hermione any of her garments when he found them. She found her wand and quickly provided them some light as she gathered the blankets together.

"What should I do with these?" she asked. 

"I don't know! We don't have time. Shove them in that closet," Harry said, nodding towards the far wall. Tugging her skirt straight at the same time, Hermione dashed over to the closet and pulled the door open only to find Peeves staring at her, a huge grin on his face. 

"Two . . ." he said slowly and she tossed the blankets through him, slamming the door.

Harry grabbed her hand and pulled her out the door, checking both ways down the corridor to make sure no one was coming already. 

"Oh, wait!" Hermione said, turning back into the room. A second later she came out with the Valentine he made her clutched between her fingers. "I don't want to lose this."

"Three! Wheeeeee!" they heard echo from inside the room and with that, they ran towards the Gryffindor tower faster than they had ever run in their lives. 

**************

To Be Continued . . .


	3. Chapter 3

The Quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Slytherin had now gone on for eight hours in weather so dreary the players kept getting lost in the mist. It was late in the afternoon and it wasn't going to get any better when what little light there had finally vanished. Harry, there to study the team Gryffindor would face depending on the outcome, was beginning to get restless and he had passed being merely bored hours ago. 

The weather was so bad that he couldn't even convince Ron to come join him, which was probably for the best since Harry still hadn't told his best friend about his other best friend. The only other Gryffindor here was Colin who was too cold to even take pictures. Instead of focusing on the match like he should be, Harry's eyes would periodically search around to see if Hermione had come out of the castle to keep him company. It was a foolish thing to hope for considering the weather and everything else. 

Ever since the incident with Peeves on Valentine's Day, they had kept their distance from each other. If Peeves had indeed told on them, no one seemed concerned about it. Harry was just thankful for every day that passed without being called in to talk to Professor McGonagall. 

Harry shifted in his seat, wrapping his cloak tightly around him to keep from shivering. He had spotted the Snitch no less than half a dozen times in the last two hours and was amazed that neither team had managed to catch it yet. Of course, he knew quite well how different it was out there on a broom with Bludgers coming at one's head. 

He was just about to give up and go back to the castle when he saw Hermione, standing there at the end of the row covered completely in her cloak. His heart started beating faster like it often did now when she showed up just when he hoped she would. She squeezed past the other onlookers and sat in a space next to him that was so small, it forced them to get quite cozy.

"I was just about to go in," Harry said.

"That figures. I give up my study time and hike through the muck to get out here just to see you and now you tell me you were about to leave," Hermione said, rolling her eyes in mock indignation.

"We can stay until the end if you'd like," Harry said, sighing as Cho let the Snitch go by her again. Thankfully, Malfoy wasn't doing much better. "It should only last another ten or so hours."

"It's not as exciting when you're not playing," Hermione said after watching for less than a minute. "Of course, this way I don't have to worry about you getting yourself killed." 

"Or worse -- maimed just enough to ruin your plans. Are you ever going to tell me what those plans were?" Harry whispered into his girlfriend's ear. 

"You'll just have to wait," Hermione whispered back. Colin turned around just then, gave them a big smile and moved up a few rows to be closer. 

"Slow game, isn't it, Harry?" Colin asked and Harry felt Hermione move away. 

"It is," Harry answered, focusing on the players again and hoping that Colin would leave them alone again soon so Hermione could snuggle back up to him. 

"Not like when you play. You really are the best player," he said and Harry shook his head.

"I'm not sure about that," Harry mumbled and Hermione elbowed him in the side. He added a quick, "Maybe."

"Can I take a picture of the two of you?" Colin asked, holding his camera up before either of them could answer. There was never much point in telling him no anyway. Harry and Hermione both sat up straight, trying not touch at all but in the crowd, that wasn't easy to accomplish. Someone jostled them closer just as Colin snapped the picture. "Thanks! I think I'll be going in now. This could go on forever."

Harry watched Colin leave and then turned to face Hermione. She looked envious that Colin was heading towards the warmth of the castle while they were still stuck out here in the cold rain. 

"Would you like to leave?" he asked. She nodded her head and they both stood up, people grumbling at them as they moved down the row. 

They made their way out and when Harry was sure no one was watching, he grabbed Hermione's hand in his. They were just two students out in the cold completely concealed under their cloaks. Who would ever be able to tell it was them? 

"Do you think it's safe?" Hermione asked.

"Do I think what's safe?" 

"For me to make plans again," she said and he stopped walking. She came to a halt next to him and he still held onto her hand, thinking. She pushed the hood of cloak down and he stared at her, reaching out to gently touch a rosy cheek. He didn't feel like waiting for her to make plans. He simply wanted to be with his girlfriend right now. Hermione finally asked, "What?"

"Oh, to hell with the bloody plans. Come with me," Harry said, pulling her in the opposite direction of the castle. 

************

The changing room was dark and terribly cold but at least it was dry. Better yet, it was completely empty and far enough away from the castle that they didn't have to worry about Ron or any of the other Gryffindors finding them. All they had to worry about was the Quidditch match ending and one of the the teams coming back here, but the way things were going, they had a while. Or at least Harry hoped they had a while. 

"Six months. They could be out playing for six months," Hermione stated, in her usual factual manner, as if she was reading his mind. Before he could respond, she pulled his face to hers for a long, deep kiss. Her lips parted under his and he moaned when her tongue danced across his own. He had her pressed up against a wall and he was trying to focus on kissing her while tugging up the bottom of her cloak. Her hands were working on his clothes at the same time and he could tell she was growing impatient.

"I don't think we'll need six months," he said when they finally had to break the kiss, both breathless now.

"We might need that much time to get through all the clothes you're wearing . . . what do you have on under here?" Hermione said with an exasperated huff, pulling his cloak open. 

"It was rather cold out there," he said, looking down at what she was doing with her hands. "I'm sure you're not just wearing . . . oh."

Under her cloak, she had only a sweater and a skirt -- and whatever might be underneath that. He was expecting jeans and now Harry knew why she looked so miserable watching the match. His hands went exploring further, hiking up her skirt and feeling her through her cotton knickers. She moaned, her hands dropping away from whatever they were doing. Pushing aside the thin fabric, his fingers circled around just the right spot and she started sinking down the wall. They both ended up on their knees, his eyes locked onto hers, as she rocked against his hand. 

Her mouth dropped open a little as her breathing grew shallow. He wanted desperately to kiss her parted lips but then he'd have to take his eyes off of hers and he didn't want to do that. He had seen so many horrible things in his life and he hoped moments like this would overwrite all those bad memories. 

She held onto his arms so tight he could feel her nails digging through all the clothes he had on. It was moments like this, when the desire in her eyes tore right through to his heart and when she clung to him so tightly that it was if she was drowning, that he could feel a tiny little stab of fear rise up into his chest. Nothing, after all, could really overwrite the bad memories. Nothing could keep her safe and he knew that just by doing this, he was putting what he loved most at risk. This time, the loss would be unbearble.

"Harry, what is it?" she asked, pushing his hand away and drawing him out of his thoughts. He shook his head but he could tell she knew what he was thinking about. 

"I'm sorry, Hermione. It's just . . ."

"Shh . . ." she said, kissing him once again. His hands went to her face, never wanting to let her go. She managed to get through his layers of clothes and down to his jeans, unzipping them slowly. Every sound they made echoed around the empty room and the only other noise was an occasional cheer from the crowd outside. Harry knew that none of the cheers so far were the sound of one team defeating the other. He knew that sound well. 

After pulling his jeans and underclothes down just past his hips, Hermione pushed him back until he was lying down and he was quite thankful that he had his cloak on because the floor was very cold. Harry propped himself up on his elbows and watched as Hermione stood and slipped her knickers off, tucking them into her pocket so she could find them quickly. 

"What are you going to do to me?" Harry asked, heat radiating through his body just from watching her. 

"I'm going to make you forget about whatever it was you were just thinking of," Hermione said, crawling up him and straddling his hips. He sighed -- no, moaned -- as she settled down against him, so wet and warm that he could barely stand waiting another second even though she wouldn't let him in just yet. She ran her fingers through his hair, brushing aside his fringe. Now she sighed, her fingers brushing lightly over his scar. "There are things not even I can make you forget, aren't there?" 

"You've come the nearest yet by far to erasing all of it," he said.

"There are ways . . . but I don't want you to forget it all," she said and he gave her a quizzical look. "You wouldn't be you anymore. You wouldn't be Harry Potter. Besides, you don't want to forget it all. You just want it to go away for a while."

"If people forget, if I forget, it will never end and . . . " Harry started to say but she sank down, taking him in as far as he could go. Harry waited for an expression of discomfort to cross her face but it never came. With a gentle push, he was on his back again as Hermione took his hands in hers, fingers wrapped tightly together. He kept staring at Hermione and realized exactly why she was his best friend -- she always knew exactly what he needed. 

As soon as she started moving, all his thoughts turned to where they were joined and how amazing it felt to lie there and do nothing but watch her. If only she didn't have on so much clothes, it would be perfect. Absolutely bloody perfect. 

"Harry?" Hermione asked while she kept moving over him. He had to work to focus on her. 

"Hm?" was all he could manage to get out. 

"Do you think you could . . . can you . . . oh, here," she said, unable to get the words out. She pushed her skirt aside and pulled his hand down until his fingers were at the apex of her sex. "Can you do that again?" 

"Er-- anything," he said, trying to remember exactly how he touched her last time and quickly discovered that anything close seemed to work brilliantly. Hermione moaned softly, her tongue brushing slowly across her lower lip before she started moving again. Her pace was faster now and Harry could barely concentrate on everything all at once. He had to make her happy -- he couldn't stop moving his fingers against her. She deserved to be happy because she truly did make him forget. 

"Anything . . . I'd do . . ." she mumbled words that meant nothing and everything all at once. 

"Me, too," he said before she could go on, squeezing her one hand in his. "What were the plans, Hermione? What were the ones I missed?"

"This. This was the plan. You . . . in here . . . after the match," she said, barely able to get the words out. 

"I would have liked that . . . I mean, I do like that. Now," he said, the dark room spinning around him and he tried to keep his eyes on Hermione moving above him. Her long hair swayed with each movement and it made it hard to see her face. 

Neither said another word for a long while until the constant rumble of the crowd out at the Quidditch pitch grew into a riot of screaming and cheering. 

"Bloody hell!" Harry said, his eyes opening wide. "It's over. Someone won."

"How close are you?" Hermione asked and he couldn't believe she was taking the time to ask instead of getting off of him and fixing her clothes. Plans or no plans, she couldn't be serious.

"Hermione!"

"How close?" she asked, sinking down as far as she could and tightening all her inner muscles around him. At that point, her question became moot as his body went into spasms, emptying everything into her. 

"That close," he managed to say, gasping for breath. "How 'bout you then?"

"Don't stop . . ." she said and he didn't. His fingers circled faster and harder and he could hear a crowd of people coming this way but he didn't stop until she finally came, her body quaking over and around his. Her eyes never left his and he was in awe of how beautiful she was right at this moment. This he never would want to forget. 

"Hermione, we better . . ." 

He couldn't get the words out before she was up and off of him and smoothing out her skirt. Apparently, there was no time for her knickers for she reached out a hand to him and helped him off the floor. He carefully tucked everything back in and watched as she made a face. 

"Do you think anyone can tell?" she asked, looking concerned. 

"If we get out of here, no one will know. Come on," he said, pulling her towards the door. Before they could reach it, the door flew open and the Ravenclaw team came streaming in, looking rather triumphant. Harry came face to face with a happy but confused Cho Chang. 

"What are you doing in here?" Cho asked suspiciously, looking Harry over from head to toe. It was only then that Harry realized he was still holding Hermione's hand in his and he dropped it quickly. 

"Nothing. I was . . . I forgot something during our last practice and I . . . you won?" he asked, hoping to change the conversation. He glanced over at Hermione, who now had her arms crossed in front of her, looking unhappy . . . and a bit tousled. What they were doing had to be obvious to everyone by now. 

"We won and next we're going to beat Gryffindor so you better prepare your team for defeat, Potter," said some player Harry hardly knew and the Ravenclaw team burst into a boisterous whoop of agreement. 

"Er -- congratulations, Cho," Harry mumbled before he and Hermione dodged around the lot of them and made their way out of the changing room. People were streaming back to the castle and Harry and Hermione managed to blend in with the crowd. 

"Do you still like her?" Hermione asked, her voice barely loud enough for him to hear over the crowd. 

"What? Who?" Harry asked. 

"Cho. Do you still like her?" she asked again.

"Hermione, why would you ask that? Especially right after . . . you know," Harry asked, looking around to see if anyone was listening. Hermione didn't answer right away. Instead, she continued to look unhappy and lost in her thoughts. 

They were nearly to the castle before she spoke again. "In the next few weeks, there's another trip to Hogsmeade planned. I'd like to be able to go with you and have you not drop my hand if someone sees us together. I'd like to go with my boyfriend and not just my best friend."

"What are you saying?" Harry asked and Hermione rolled her eyes. 

"What I'm saying is you better figure out a way to tell Ron before then or I will," she answered. She stomped off into the castle by herself, leaving Harry standing out in the cold, wondering how his day turned out like this. 

************

"Harry, wait up!" 

Harry stopped his trek across the lawn to the Quidditch pitch and turned to find Ron racing after him. He shifted him broom from one hand to the other and pulled his cloak tighter around him. 

"What's the problem?" Harry asked once Ron was near. It was too early on a Saturday morning for anyone to be out who didn't need to be. Besides that, it was bitterly cold and after running, Ron was now struggling to catch his breath, panting out huge puffs of white air. 

"I . . . I just wanted to talk to you about something," Ron said.

"You couldn't find a warmer place to talk?" Harry asked, unable to feel his toes despite the thick socks he had on. 

"You're never around much. You're always working on homework or practicing or . . . with Hermione," Ron said. The look on his face tugged at Harry's insides. He knew he had been avoiding Ron the last few weeks but that's only because he was afraid to tell him the truth. He was going to have to do it soon. 

"You'll have to walk with me. I wanted to get in a few minutes on my broom alone," Harry said and they both continued across the lawn. Ron said nothing and Harry was beginning to wonder exactly what was on his mind. "All right then. What's this about?"

"Colin had some pictures that he took recently developed and last night while you and Hermione were studying, a group of fifth and sixth years were laughing at one in particular," Ron said and Harry had no clue what he was getting at. 

"So?" 

"I asked to see it and . . . Harry, this is the picture," Ron said, pulling it out of his cloak and handing it to Harry. What he saw made Harry stop walking and in a step or two, Ron realized he wasn't keeping up with him and turned around. "I told everyone there was probably an explanation for it but Lavender seemed to think she knew the explanation already."

Harry stared at the picture of Hermione and him sitting out in the cold at the Quidditch match. Despite the fact that they weren't snuggling and kissing when the picture was taken, they surely were in this wizard picture. Harry could have kicked himself for not thinking about that when Colin asked to take their picture. He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, knowing he had to tell Ron the truth and now was as good a time as any. 

"There is an explanation," Harry said, watching as the Hermione in the picture brushed her hand through his hair just as the real Hermione often did. It sent a warm tingle through him and he looked away from the photograph.

"I knew there had to be one. I told Lavender she was daft for thinking . . ."

"Hermione and I have been seeing each other since Christmas," Harry said, cutting Ron off. Ron looked at him as if he didn't actually hear what he said and maybe he hadn't. "Actually, more like right after the New Year. Almost two months but not quite . . ."

"What?" Ron asked, his voice wavering a little. 

"Ron, Hermione is my girlfriend," Harry said, choosing to look down at his feet instead of having to face his friend. Ron took a step backwards. A silence hung between them for quite a while and Harry thought for a moment that maybe this wasn't going to be as bad as he had thought. That moment didn't last for long. 

"Oh, bloody hell! And why not? You've got everything already, Harry. Why not one more thing? You've got the fame and fortune and everything you do always works out for the best so why the hell shouldn't you have the girl, too, right?" Ron said, going from confused to angry rather quickly. 

"It's not like that. Hermione isn't a prize to be had . . ." Harry said, looking up now to find Ron's face all red with anger. His reaction was making Harry angry, too. 

"Easy for you to say. You're the one who has her," Ron said, his voice growing louder. Harry looked around to see if anyone else was out this early in the morning and indeed there was. Streaming out of the castle were a few other members of Gryffindor team, each with the same idea as him. 

"I don't have . . . Hermione isn't a possession . . . she's not one who . . ." Harry tried explaining himself but his tongue kept tripping over the next word. Ron knew Hermione as well as he did (almost) and he had to understand that someone as headstrong as Hermione wasn't someone that could be had. 

"You could have any girl, Harry, so why'd you go and do this? Girls . . . women, even . . . I've seen how they look at you. You could have them all . . ."

"I couldn't have Cho so that's not exactly true," Harry said, cutting Ron off again but it didn't last for long.

". . . Instead, you do this. Why, Harry?" Ron asked and Harry thought for a second that his friend was going to start crying but he didn't. He just sniffed and grabbed the picture out of Harry's hand. 

"Because I love her," Harry answered. There was no other reason. He loved her and nothing else mattered. Not his so called fame or all the galleons he had saved up in Gringott's bank. Ron could be as angry as he wanted to be but that wasn't going to stop him from loving her. 

The few other Gryffindor team members had finally caught up to them and the newest member of the team, a second year girl named Zoila Witherite, asked in a very concerned voice, "Is everything all right, Harry?" 

"It's fine. I'll just be a few minutes," Harry said, waving her on. They all started walking towards the pitch again and Zoila turned back to look at him. 

"There's another one you could have," Ron said rather sarcastically. Harry looked at Ron whose face was still an unbelievable shade of crimson and Harry was sure his was the same color by now. He didn't have time for this. He had a team waiting for him and a big match in a few weeks and he couldn't deal with a pouting and unhappy Ron right at the moment. 

"She's only twelve years old . . . damn good on a broom, though . . . and . . . I'm not going to fight with you about this now. I don't have much time . . ."

"You didn't even bother to ask me if I wanted to practice. Afraid I'd find out the truth?" Ron asked. 

"Goodbye, Ron," Harry said, leaving him behind and dashing as quickly as he possibly could to the Quidditch pitch. 

************

Hermione put her book down and sighed. "Are you going to study?"

"I don't know," Harry answered, opening and then closing the book before him. He sighed, picking up his quill and playing with it instead of actually writing something down on the scroll in front of him.

"You have to talk to him," Hermione said before picking up a different book and searching through it. "I can't work with you sitting around here sighing. My marks are suffering as it is because of you and now I have to catch up."

"You're going to blame me for your marks?" Harry asked, pulling Hermione's latest essay out of her bag and looking at it. "You nearly got a perfect mark!"

"Nearly. That's not good enough," Hermione said, grabbing the scroll back from him. Harry sighed again and she gave him a nasty look. "I've been letting you interrupt my study time for a while now and it's showing in my work. You have to make up with Ron so I can get some studying done."

"I thought you liked it when I came up with interruptions," Harry said, leaning in closer to her. Hermione closed her eyes and let out a breath of exasperation. Their last 'interruption' involved a dark closet and an hour of lost study time. 

"I do love your interruptions but I have to get this done. Either work or find something else to do," Hermione said, opening her eyes and giving him a pleading look. 

"What should I say to him?" Harry asked. He really didn't even know how to approach Ron at this point. How much he should tell him was another issue he wasn't too sure of. 

"Tell him you miss him and that I've tossed you out on your ear. Tell him whatever it is you want to tell him. But please tell him soon," Hermione said, growing more frustrated with him as each minute passed. 

"I could go visit Hagrid. I haven't been to see him in a long while," Harry said, beginning to pack up his books. 

"I saw Ron go into his hut earlier this afternoon."

"Or maybe I'll just go to bed. Care to join me?" he asked, lowering his voice so the table of Hufflepuffs next to them wouldn't hear. It was one thing if the entire school knew they were dating but he wasn't sure the was ready for everyone to find out that they were doing more. 

"Harry . . . I love you. I love you a lot. Now please go away," Hermione said, her voice no louder than his. 

Harry gathered up his books and supplies and, coming around the table, gave his girlfriend a kiss. It was their first in such a public place and the students around them all grew silent as they waited for Madam Pince to come over and tell them off for kissing in her library. Before that could happen, Hermione blushed and buried her nose deeper into her book as Harry quickly left the library smiling. 

************

Harry stepped through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room and saw Ron sitting alone on the couch in front of the fire. Harry had hoped that Ron would still be visiting Hagrid or in bed already but they couldn't avoid each other much longer. 

"I knew you'd be upset," Harry said, putting his books down on the table before sitting on the couch next to Ron. 

"How'd you ever guess?" Ron said, not hiding any of his disappointment in his voice. He didn't turn to look at Harry but instead continued to stare at the fire. 

"I don't know. Maybe because you haven't spoken to either of your best friends in two weeks," Harry answered. 

Ron looked over his shoulder and then back at Harry. "Speaking of my 'friends,' where is Hermione? I thought you two were inseparable?"

"She's still in the library studying."

"I'm not upset about you and Hermione --"

"Ron . . ."

"I'm still trying to get used to the idea and all but I think what bothers me more is that you couldn't tell me the truth. You and Hermione lied to me, Harry and I'm not sure whether it was to protect me or to protect yourselves," Ron said, turning to look at Harry. The firelight was dancing across his face, making it hard for Harry to read his features. 

"I'm sorry," Harry said softly. He didn't really know what else to say. There was a time in his life he wouldn't have apologized but this time, he knew he should have told Ron. He knew Ron was perfectly within his rights to be upset about that. A silence hung between them for a long while, punctuated only by the crackling fire. Harry really wanted to slink away up to his bed but instead he sat there under Ron's penetrating gaze. 

"You do know how much I like her, right? You're not so blind as to have missed that?" he asked. 

"I . . . I figured after Hermione started dating that Muggle boy that you'd realize . . ."

"That she didn't like me in the same way?"

"I guess so," Harry said, turning to watch the fire again. 

"You know there was a time when she did," Ron said thoughtfully. 

"You were fourteen then. People change," Harry said with a shrug. 

"Obviously."

"We didn't plan this," Harry said, nearly laughing at his words. "Or rather, we didn't plan for *us* to happen. She wanted to . . . and something happened and we did . . . we had . . ."

"I don't want to know what you two have done," Ron said, putting a hand up before Harry could go further. "Just promise me that you won't hurt her. Or get her killed. If something happens to her because of who you are, I'll . . . I'll kill you."

Harry knew he didn't mean it and that Ron was angry but the words stung anyway. 

"Ron, I love her . . ." Harry said and Ron blanched at his words. "She's one of my best friends and you're the other. I would never let anything happen to you. Besides, you wouldn't have to kill me. Believe me when I say to get to Hermione, they'd have to kill me first."

"But people have died around you and you couldn't do a bloody thing to stop it," Ron said, his voice filling with anger. The implication that he wouldn't do everything in his power to stop such a thing was making Harry quite angry himself. 

"I've changed a lot in the last few years. I'm a far better wizard now and . . . and there are things Dumbledore has done to assure our safety here at Hogwarts that I can't even begin to explain," Harry said, trying to gain some control over his emotions. 

"What about when she goes home?" Ron asked and Harry shook his head. 

"What could possibly happen to her at home?" Harry asked. After the summer with the dementors sent by Delores Umbridge, nothing had happened again at the Dursleys and in looking back, his summer holidays would have been the easiest time to do something to him. He always figured it wouldn't make a bold enough statement, though, attacking him as he pulled weeds in Aunt Petunia's garden. Voldemort would want to make a show of it and a show of him in front of other wizards, not just the common Muggles on Privet Drive. Still, Harry could only imagine the look on Uncle Vernon's face if the Death Eaters all arrived at once on the front doorstep and . . .

"You won't be with her this summer," Ron said, interrupting Harry's thoughts. "You won't be able to protect her if you're locked in a bedroom with the Dursleys."

"If it comes to that, I'll do anything . . . I'll break all the Ministry's rules about being underage and using magic. I've done it before and I'll do it again. There's nothing I wouldn't do for her, Ron. Please trust me. This isn't just some fling and I love her more than I've ever loved anyone in my life and there's no way Voldemort's going to hurt her. I'd die first . . ." Harry repeated. 

"I don't want that . . ."

"Do you think I do? Do you think my mum wanted to die? She did it because she loved me and I love Hermione and I would never let anything happen to her just as I would never let anything happen to you," Harry said followed by another long silence.

"It's going to take a while for me to get used to this. I'm not sure I'm ready to see the two of you together as boyfriend and girlfriend. I'm not so sure I want to know anything that . . . you know," Ron said and Harry nodded. 

"There's a trip into Hogsmeade in two more weeks. Do you think the three of us could go as friends like we used to?" Harry asked. 

"I don't know. We'll just have to wait and see. And Harry, Hermione or you better talk to Ginny, too. She always had the biggest crush on you and she didn't see this coming. I guess the whole Weasley family was blind to the obvious," Ron said, his face twisting up.

"It wasn't that obvious. It just . . . happened," Harry said. 

"Things always seem to just happen to you," Ron added, jealousy seeping into his voice again.

"They're not always good things. You don't know what I would have given to have grown up in a house like yours with a mum and a dad and . . . I don't get everything, Ron. I spent years locked away in a cupboard and nothing will ever make up for that. Coming to Hogwarts and meeting you and Hermione comes close, but all those years . . . nothing will ever change them," Harry said, opening up to Ron far more about his early childhood than he had in a long time. Ron's expression grew slightly softer and he opened his mouth to say something but changed his mind. "If I hadn't met you and Hermione, who knows what would have become of me."

"You'd be one bloody awful wizard," Ron said with a smirk. 

"But I bet I could still handle a broom better than anyone," Harry added and Ron objected quickly while Harry firmly stood his ground on that point. Watching as his friend told him all the reasons he was better on a broom, Harry realized that eventually, it might just all be fine between them. 

************

To Be Continued . . .


	4. Chapter 4

It was the day of their outing to Hogsmeade and Harry and Hermione were waiting for Ron outside of the castle. He was fifteen minutes late and Hermione was growing more frustrated with each passing second. 

"Are you sure they're coming?" she asked once more. Harry nodded like he did the last two times she asked. The weather had cleared up quite nicely in the past few weeks and he was just happy to be outside without cold rain coming down. It would have been a great day for his team to practice Quidditch but Hermione insisted they were going to Hogsmeade together with Ron. Ginny decided she wanted to come along with them, too. At least that way no one would be comfortable, Harry thought. "I'm going to find them --"

Before she could finish, Ron came out of the castle doors looking rather sullen. "You ready then?" he asked, not really looking at either of them but rather off in the distance. 

"Where's Ginny?" Harry asked. 

"She changed her mind and decided to go with her friends," Ron said, putting all the emphasis on the word 'friends.'

"That's good, I guess," Harry said, looking at Hermione. She shrugged her shoulders and sighed about the whole thing. While Ron had his moments where everything was fine between all of them, Ginny was still acting quite cold about the whole matter. She had gotten over her crush on Harry years ago but she was upset that neither of them told her they were together.

"I guess," Ron said, dismissing the topic. 

They walked most of the way in silence, Hermione's hand occasionally brushing up against Harry's. Each time that happened, Ron looked away. By the time they reached the town, Hermione looked rather distraught and Harry was beginning to think that Quidditch practice would have definitely been a better idea. 

"Where would you like to go first?" Harry asked needlessly. Ron was ahead of the group, leading them in the direction of Honeyduke's. 

"At least he's predictable," Hermione leaned close and whispered and Harry grinned. Ron turned around right then and rolled his eyes at them.

"If you two want to hold hands or snog or whatever it is you do, just go right on and do it. Pretend I'm not even here," Ron said, turning away from them. Hermione and Harry looked at each other and quickened their pace until one was standing on either side of Ron. 

"I don't know what you think, Ron, but we are the same people as before. We're still your best friends and we don't spend all our time doing . . . whatever it is you think we do," Hermione said and Ron looked from her to Harry.

"She's right. That's why we wanted you to come with us today," Harry added. 

"We don't want you to feel like you're a third wheel. You're not. We're here as friends just like always," Hermione said. 

Ron didn't say anything but instead, disappeared into the crowd of Hogwarts' students inside of Honeyduke's. 

"That went well," Harry said sarcastically. He could finally take Hermione's hand in his and she gave his a gentle squeeze of reassurance. "He's fine when we're alone together -- or at least I thought everything was fine. I don't know why he's being so odd today."

"He was okay when we worked on our homework together last night. It will take some time, that's all. The two of you will be the best of friends again in no time. We all will be," Hermione said.

"I suppose so," Harry said, staring through the window at Ron who was laughing away about something with Dean Thomas at his side. Hermione took Harry's hand and pulled him inside. The door had barely closed behind them when they were approached by Draco Malfoy. Behind him stood Crabbe and Goyle, like always. 

"So it's true then? You and Granger really are fucking?" Malfoy asked rather loudly despite his foul language, not hiding the disgust in his voice. The whole place fell quiet as if they were waiting for an answer. Harry stepped in front of Hermione before she could get to Malfoy, scared that she might do him some serious harm. 

"I don't think that's any of your business," Harry said. By now, most of the students had gathered around them waiting to see what was going to happen next. Harry's eyes met Ron's briefly and Ron looked as if he were afraid that he might actually answer Malfoy's question with an answer he didn't want to hear. 

"Everything you do always seems to be everyone's business, Potter. Why should who you do be any different?" Malfoy asked. By now there was no way he could keep Hermione calm. Before Harry really knew what happened, she was no longer behind him and he could feel the anger rolling off of her. 

"You never cared this much about anyone I've been with in the past. Why should this concern you?" Hermione said, controlling her voice the best she could. "Maybe you're just jealous that Harry has a girlfriend while all you have is Crabbe and Goyle . . . though I imagine that might be just what you like . . ."

"Shut up, you whoring little mudblood!" Malfoy said while all the students from any house other than Slytherin giggled and whooped at what Hermione had just implied. Crabbe and Goyle had even tried slinking off somewhere before they could be at the receiving end of more barbs but one look from Malfoy stopped them. 

"Shut up, Malfoy. You can't talk about Hermione like that," Ron said and Harry turned around to look at him. Ron didn't meet his glance, never taking his eyes off of Hermione.

"I can't believe she's good enough for the likes of you, Potter," Malfoy said, ignoring Ron completely. "The famous Harry Potter is going to settle for a Muggle-born girl. I suppose if it was good enough for your father . . ."

"This has nothing to do with my parents . . . or hers," Harry said. He couldn't help but notice that Hermione flinched when Malfoy commented that he was settling. This was what she was afraid people would say even though she knew he didn't feel that way. Harry slipped his arm around Hermione's and pulled her to his side. "I want to be with Hermione and I don't care about anything else."

Harry turned to look at Hermione and then at Ron but his friend was walking away. 

"Looks like someone else wanted to be with her, too," Malfoy said in a whisper, stepping closer to Harry. "You should have let him have her. You're better than this . . ."

"I said I want to be with Hermione and I meant it. Now if you'll excuse us, we have things to do," Harry said, taking Hermione's hand in his, trying to escape Malfoy and the crowd that had gathered around them. The only way to do that was to leave the store. 

He and Hermione wandered around Hogsmeade for a while in silence. He squeezed her hand a few times but she didn't say or do anything back. 

"I meant it, you know," Harry finally said as they approached The Three Broomsticks. "It doesn't matter what Malfoy says. I do want to be with only you."

"I know . . . it's just hard hearing the things he said. I tell myself it doesn't matter what people think and that it only matters what you think but to hear it spoken. . ." she said, her voice trailing off. Harry knew she was still thinking about Malfoy's words and he couldn't imagine how this day could get any worse at this point. 

"You know better than to listen to anything Draco Malfoy says. You know it, Hermione," Harry pleaded and Hermione only nodded as they went inside to get a drink. 

**************

The day at Hogsmeade wasn't exactly what Harry had planned and he didn't see Ron again after he disappeared from Honeyduke's. Harry spent the rest of his time in the village drinking butterbeer with Hermione, both avoiding the topic of Draco Malfoy. The other students that came in looked at them with amusement, as if they thought this might have been going on for a long time and now everything was confirmed. After a while, Hermione went off to Dervish and Banges with Parvati and Padma to get some supplies and he came back to the castle alone. 

The early evening air was growing quite cold and Harry was standing outside of Hogwarts, watching Hedwig soaring overhead. Clouds were gathering in the sky and he momentarily lost sight of her against all the white. It was then that he saw her diving towards the ground to catch something. Harry hoped whatever it was, she didn't feel like sharing.

Eventually, Hedwig was back soaring around (with no special treat clutched in her talons) and Harry put his arm out, calling her back to him. In less than a minute, she was on his arm, gently nipping at his wrist, quite pleased to see him. 

"I know. I'm sorry I've been ignoring you lately, Hedwig, it's just . . . well, things are different," Harry said and Hedwig blinked her big eyes at him knowingly. "The good news -- or maybe the bad news -- is it looks like you and I will be spending plenty of time together this summer at the Dursleys."

Hedwig ruffled her feathers up and looked disgusted at the idea of going to back to the Dursleys again. 

"I don't think Ron or Ginny will even have us at The Burrow for a week or two. Ron's kind of upset about a lot of things right now and I don't blame him. I just . . . I miss him. As much as I love Hermione, it's not the same. I really thought . . . I don't know what I was thinking. I didn't think falling in love with her would change absolutely everything," Harry told his owl. 

She made soft, soothing sounds and stood quite still on his arm as he stroked her feathers. The look in her eyes made him realize he should have known better. Of course this was going to change everything and not only with Hermione or Ron but it changed everything about himself, too. Loving her somehow made everything that had happened in the first part of his life hurt a lot less and now there was nothing he couldn't survive if it meant getting back to her. 

"Hello, Harry," he heard from behind him and he didn't even have to look to know whose voice it was. Hedwig turned her head to look and then turned back to Harry, giving him a soft hoot.

"Come by at breakfast tomorrow. I'll save some toast for you," Harry said to Hedwig before she took off towards the Owlery, leaving him alone with Hermione. 

"Did you get the supplies you needed?" Harry asked, turning to face her. 

"You didn't have to leave Hogsmeade. You could have come with us. I don't want you to feel like . . ."

"I wanted to be alone for a while, that's all," Harry said and Hermione said nothing more. She knew him well enough now to know that sometimes he just needed to be left alone. She took a step away from him but before she could retreat entirely, he asked her, "You want to take a walk? Go to the lake?"

Hermione nodded and he took her hand in his as they walked silently to the lake. They ended up at their usual spot and after they sat down, she finally spoke again. "That didn't go at all well, did it?" 

"It wasn't exactly what I had planned," Harry answered, staring out over the dark water. 

"Maybe it's time we do away with any plans," Hermione said, letting go of his hand. "Maybe it's time we slow this whole thing down."

"What?" Harry asked, his head snapping around to face her. 

"I'm just suggesting that perhaps we should take a little time off from this," she said and he could feel his heart break . . . no, shatter in his chest. What was she saying? He couldn't quite make his brain comprehend any of it.

"You want to break up?"

"Not exactly."

"Is this because of what Malfoy said earlier because if it is, I'll . . "

"No, Harry. This has nothing to do with that at all," Hermione said, but she didn't sound very convincing. 

"I don't believe you," Harry said, trying hard to keep his voice from breaking. Hermione let out a sigh and shook her head at him. 

"I have to catch up on my studies, Harry. I've been falling behind lately plus there's your Quidditch. You need to focus on the next big match and on your studies. And I have to start preparing for the N.E.W.T.s for next year and planning what I'll need to do this summer to study . . . and will you stop looking at me like that?" she asked. 

"Like what?" he asked, his voice so flat that he didn't even recognize it. 

"Like I just broke your heart."

"I think you might have."

"I didn't mean to," she said softly, trying to take his hand in hers. He pulled it away and tucked both of his hands into his cloak. He could feel his wand in there and wondered briefly about a spell that would make him disappear or something that could turn back time ten minutes. That was hopeless. He wasn't that good of a wizard and apparently he wasn't that good of a boyfriend, either. 

"If it isn't because of Malfoy, what happened to prompt this?" he had to ask. "Did I do something wrong this afternoon?"

"No, not at all. I was just discussing some of my recent marks with Padma and . . . Harry! She's doing better than I am!" Hermione said, making it sound like this was the worst thing that could possibly happen in the world. 

"And you somehow realized that if you didn't have a boyfriend, everything would get better?" Harry asked, his voice not hiding his frustration.

"It's just for a few weeks, Harry. We're not breaking up. I just need to catch up on my class work, that's all," she said, making it sound incredibly simple. 

"There are some things you can't take back. Once they're done, they're done," he said and she looked at him, puzzled. "How am I supposed to be just friends with you again after everything? I've lost Ron as a friend and now I'm losing you. If I would have know, I never would have . . ."

Hermione looked crushed when he said that. Somehow, he would have cared more but this was all her idea anyway. How could he be sure that in a few weeks, things would get better? And it hurt that a couple of marks on some papers meant more than he did.

"Harry . . ."

"You're right. This will give me time to get the team ready for the next match. I haven't been a very good captain lately and now I'll have the time to make up more drills for us to run through. Thank you for this. I think you just might be right," he said, standing up. 

Anything she might have said next was stopped when they noticed a large number of the owls from the school flying overhead towards Hogsmeade. 

"Something must be happening," he said, searching the sky. It wasn't long before Hedwig swooped down, carrying a note addressed to both of them. Harry read it quickly and then handed it to Hermione. "We need to go back to the castle immediately. That's all it says but I can't imagine that they'd call us back immediately if it was something good."

"Nothing has happened here in a long time. What could it be?" she asked as they started their walk back towards the castle, Hedwig flying directly overhead, keeping an eye on them.

"I don't know," Harry said with a shrug, finding it an odd coincidence that the moment Hermione decided to . . . break up or whatever that was . . . that something bad would happen again. 

**************

The Gryffindor common room was buzzing with students asking what was going on. Harry sat on the far side of the room while Hermione took a seat at the table. When Ron finally showed up, he didn't sit near either of them but instead settled down near the fireplace.

Not much time had passed before Professor McGonagall stepped through the portrait hole and students quieted down immediately, waiting for her to speak. 

"There has been an intrusion in the castle," she said and everyone started whispering. Some of them turned to cast a quick glance at Harry but he didn't care. They always looked his way when something happened. Why should this time be any different? Harry caught Hermione staring at him for just a second before she looked away.

Professor McGonagall held her hand up to quiet them down again and the room fell still. 

"Were they caught?" Colin Creevy asked, fingering his camera. "Did anyone see who it was?"

"No, I'm afraid not. As you all know, we have added special security measures on the castle since . . ." she started to say, her eyes traveling over to Harry now, too. He looked down at his feet. Maybe this place really would be better off without him. At this moment, he certainly felt like running away but he had no place to go. ". . . the intruder was in one of the old storage rooms. We did find several blankets and a few pillows hidden away in the room so we think the perpetrator might be trying to stay in the castle."

With that, Harry and Hermione looked at each other and Harry couldn't help but notice the blush rising up to her cheeks. They never did go back to that storage room to retrieve the items they left there on Valentine's Day and now someone had found them. Not only that but the room was broken into by an outsider and that seemed far too coincidental to Harry. 

"I can assure you that the castle has been searched from top to bottom and there's no one here who doesn't belong," Professor McGonagall said but that didn't seem to relax anyone. 

"I knew it was going too well this year," a third year muttered, casting a quick glance in Harry's direction. 

"Tell me about it. I thought maybe this year . . ." someone else started to add before they noticed Harry was watching them. 

"No one is to be blamed for this," McGonagall added, casting a silencing glance at the students Harry was staring at. "We all know that things are happening that no one has any control over. I want to assure you that you are all safe at Hogwarts."

Harry sighed, knowing somehow that wasn't exactly true anymore. None of them were going to be safe anywhere and he couldn't help but blame himself. As soon as McGonagall left, Harry hurried up to his room before anyone could say a word to him and crawled into his bed, happy to fall asleep and escape this miserable day. 

***********

Arriving late for breakfast, Harry sat alone at one end of the long table, picking at some sausages he had no intentions of ever eating. Hermione was further down the table, staring intently at a book. She did smile at him when he came in and motioned for him to sit down next to her but if she wanted time to study, he was going to give it to her. Ron was at the far end of the table, laughing about something with Ginny and Seamus while they ate. Luna Lovegood tried to sit down near him but walked back to the Ravenclaw table when he didn't pay any attention to her. No one knew that Hermione wanted to stop seeing him for a while so she could study and he didn't feel like telling them now. 

Instead, he pushed his plate away and pulled out a scroll, his quill and some ink. If Hermione was going to spend this time studying, he was going to work on a schedule for Quidditch practice. Maybe he would even come up with some new moves for the team to try out. After a few minutes went by, he was still staring at a blank scroll, rolling his quill between his fingers. 

"Hey there, Harry," a soft voice said and Harry looked up to find Zoila Witherite standing on the other side of the table, several scrolls tucked in her arms. 

"Hi, Zoila," Harry said without much feeling. He didn't really want to be bothered right now and he hoped she'd be able to tell that by the tone of his voice or the look on his face. 

"Can I sit down?" she asked, nodding at the table. 

"This really isn't the best time . . . I'm working on . . ." but before he could finish, the second year student sat down and smiled brightly at him. 

"I've been working on a few things but you never seem to be alone so I haven't had a chance to discuss -- well, it would just be better if I showed you rather than told you anyway. I'm so glad to finally get a chance to talk to you about some of this," Zoila said, still carrying on as she unrolled a few of the scrolls in front of him. They were covered with Quidditch moves . . . hundreds of them. 

Harry's eyes moved from diagram to diagram, wondering exactly how long she had been working on some of these. They were all in great detail and he couldn't help but to mutter a soft "Wow."

"Oh! Hold on!" Zoila said, pulling out her wand. With a simple charm, she sent all the diagrams into motion and after a minute, Harry had to look away to give his eyes a rest. He met Zoila's eyes briefly and then she went back into another lengthy discussion about one of her drawings. Harry had to smile because she reminded him so much of Hermione back at that age . . . only Zoila seemed to know everything about Quidditch and not spells and potions. She was also an unusual girl in the fact that she was the only other person he had met besides Madam Hooch who had yellow eyes and Harry never got around to asking if they were related in some way. That would certainly explain Zoila's talent on a broom. 

It was then that Harry noticed Ron walking by, craning his neck around to see the sketches but quickly going on his way. He was soon followed by Hermione who kept her nose in a book although she did give him a quick glance before she left the hall. He fought the urge to wave to her and only Zoila's silence brought his thoughts back to what was before him which wasn't easy. He really wanted to gather up his supplies and chase Hermione down the corridor. 

"I . . . do you think any of this will help during the next match?" Zoila asked shyly. 

"We'll have to try some of them out at the next practice," Harry said, rolling up his own scroll and putting his quill away. "Why don't you pick out a few that you think we could really use and we'll talk about it later."

"This evening in the common room?" she asked, sounding quite happy by that prospect.

"Yes . . . that will work," Harry said, distracted by the time and the fact that he'd never catch up with Hermione now. 

**************

"How do you know so much about Quidditch? You know more than anyone I've ever met before," Harry said. He knew children who grew up in wizard families naturally knew more about the game than children who grew up with Muggle parents but Zoila seemed to know everything. They sat together in the common room looking over her many notes and diagrams. 

Zoila looked down at the scrolls before her and a slight blush rose to her cheeks. "My mum is a Chaser for the Appleby Arrows and my dad works in the team's front office. I've been around Quidditch my whole life."

"That must have been nice," Harry said with a sigh. It certainly sounded wonderful compared to what he spent most of his life around. 

"I learned a lot and my mum and dad help with any questions I might have. They were so proud when I made the team in my second year here. They brag to anyone who stands still long enough to listen all about how their daughter made the team and how the Gryffindor captain is Harry Potter himself. They supported you, you know. Last year when no one believed you," Zoila said and for some reason this made Harry a bit nervous. He shifted around in his seat and she looked up at him. 

"They should be very proud of you no matter who's the team captain because you're an excellent Chaser," Harry said, and Zoila smiled a crooked little smile. He looked away to find Hermione sitting on the other side of the room with her nose in a book. He had been so involved working on new maneuvers that he didn't even notice her come in through the portrait hole. 

Hermione's eyes came up over the top of the book and met his. Then, looking over at Zoila, her eyes narrowed and her expression grew cold. He wanted to remind her that it was her idea that they spend less time together so she could study and that meant he could talk to anyone he wanted to during that time. Then he wanted to remind her that he missed her desperately and going over Quidditch maneuvers with a second year didn't even come close to spending five minutes alone with her. But instead of doing either, he simply watched her from across the room as she returned to reading her book. 

"Are you two . . . did something happen?" Zoila asked, reaching over to touch his arm and shake him out of his thoughts. 

"I'd rather not talk about it," Harry said, pulling away from her touch. 

"Oh. I'm sorry. Harry, if, you know, you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here. I know, I know . . . you're thinking why would I talk to a second year, you know, about these things but just in case . . . you know . . ." Zoila started babbling away, sounding very much like an ordinary twelve year old. 

"I'm fine," Harry said, not feeling very fine at all. 

"Oh. Okay. Some of my friends are over there and I'm going to go talk to them. See you later, Harry," she said, getting up to move to a table where a group of second years were working on their homework. The sight of them made Harry miss the hours Hermione, Ron and he would spend sitting around a table working on their homework together and it made him feel quite alone. He wasn't sure how things got like this so quickly. 

All he was certain of was if he could go back and erase everything that had happened with Hermione in the last few months, he would if it meant they could all be friends again. 

*************

It was Saturday morning and Harry sat alone at breakfast in the Great Hall once again, his Firebolt at his side. Today was their match against Ravenclaw and his stomach was doing flip flops as he reviewed all the new moves the team had been working on. He had no reason to be so worried since they practiced so much in the last few weeks but still, he was. 

"Hey, Harry," Cho Chang said as she walked by with some of her fellow housemates. She was dressed in her Quidditch robes already and carried her broom in her hand. "Good luck today."

"Good luck to you, too, Cho," Harry said, smiling at the girl who used to make his stomach feel all fluttery inside. Now there was only two things that did that to him: a tough Quidditch match and Hermione. 

Just as he thought of her, she walked through the door, her eyes scanning the Gryffindor table quickly until she spotted him. She walked towards him and he pushed aside his plate of uneaten sausages and eggs. 

"I just wanted to wish you the best of luck today," she said, standing rather stiffly directly across the table. 

"Thank you," he said, sounding as nervous as his stomach felt. He had been so anxious to talk to her for days but he didn't want to press his luck and interrupt her studies. Instead, whenever he wanted desperately to talk to her, he'd call for a Quidditch practice instead to take him mind off of everything. "Would you like to sit down?"

"Only if you're not busy," she said, looking at all the scrolls before him.

"Oh, no. I'm not busy at all," he said, quickly clearing everything from the table. "How's the studying coming along?"

"Great, actually. My marks have improved drastically," Hermione answered, sitting down and pouring herself some pumpkin juice.

"Oh." 

"I noticed you've been practicing Quidditch quite a bit. I hope you aren't ignoring your class work, Harry. You know how important it is," she said and he wanted to smile because she sounded just like the Hermione he knew so well. 

"My marks have been okay," he said with a shrug. He didn't really feel like discussing class work with her. Instead, he really wanted to ask if she missed him as much as he missed her. He wanted to know if being apart kept her awake at night thinking about the last time they were together. 

He didn't get the opportunity to discuss any of that either because it was time for the mail and a package so large and cumbersome that it required two large barn owls to carry it was dropped in front of Hermione. 

She looked rather surprised that she would be receiving something at all and she looked up at Harry. "You didn't send me something, did you?" she asked, a touch of hopefulness in her voice that he didn't miss. 

"No," he said, feeling rather stupid that he hadn't thought of sending her a gift over the last few weeks. He had spent too much time pouting over the whole situation instead of thinking of something that could persuade her to give up this thing about studying and come back to him. 

She quickly pulled the note from the package and opened it, reading it carefully. Her face paled as she shoved the note back in its envelope just as quickly. 

"Who is it from?" Harry asked. "Aren't you going to open it?"

"It's from Drew," she said, not making a move towards the package at all. 

"Oh."

"He asked my parents to send it to me. A gift because he misses me," Hermione added and Harry couldn't really tell by the tone of her voice how this made her feel though he knew without a doubt how it made him feel. 

"Oh," Harry said again. "I thought that was over."

"Really, Harry, I didn't ask for him to send it. And you're hardly one to complain considering how much time you've been spending with . . . what is her name again?" Hermione asked. Now he could read the tone of her voice very well and she was getting upset. 

"Whose name?" he asked, drawing a complete blank.

"Hey, Harry! Ready for today's match?" Zoila Witherite asked from behind Hermione. 

"Her name," Hermione said and before Harry could say anything else, Hermione grabbed her package and was off. He wanted to chase after her but he couldn't right now. There just wasn't enough time.

"Did I do something wrong?" Zoila asked, sitting down in the spot Hermione just vacated. The rest of the Quidditch team was now here, except Ron, and they filled in the empty spaces around Harry, all of them grabbing for food and pouring themselves pumpkin juice. 

"No, you didn't do anything. Since we're all together, we might as well go over some plays," Harry said, sounding rather dismal. He forced himself to push any thoughts of Hermione away for now and concentrate only on the match before them. 

***************

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. It had been years since the last time this happened and he couldn't believe it was happening again. They were calling off the Quidditch match and he tried hard to listen to what Professor McGonagall was saying but he couldn't move past that the match was canceled after all the work they put into it. Not only that, but they were ahead of Ravenclaw by forty points and he was certain he had just spotted the Snitch right before the whistle blew. He forced himself to listen past the protestations going on in his own head. 

The entire student body was gathered in the Great Hall as Professor McGonagall went over the latest break in at Hogwarts. This time it happened in the Gryffindor tower. In the sixth year girls' dorm to be specific. Hermione's dorm room. She was sitting with her roommates at the far end of the table and Lavender looked quite nervous about the whole ordeal. 

It had happened while they were at the match (though Hermione wasn't in the stands but rather in the library at the time) and they quickly called the game off to account for all the students and to make sure they were safe. 

"I assure you we've taken every measure possible to make sure this doesn't happen again," the professor said and a first year Gryffindor student raised his hand. "Yes, Emrys?"

"Did they just apparate in or how . . ." the young student started to ask but the older students chuckled at his question. 

"Surely everyone knows you cannot apparate in to Hogwarts," Harry heard Hermione answer from down the table and Emrys' face turned a vivid shade of magenta. 

"Yes, we're unsure of how they got in or out so quickly. From now on, there will be a strict curfew and I would ask that until we can resolve this matter, you use caution when traveling around the castle. Try to have a classmate with you if at all possible. And as a precaution we're going to have all the Gryffindors spend the night in the Great Hall. The other houses are dismissed with the exception of the prefects and head girl and boy. Will you please come talk to me once we get the students settled? Professors, please lead your house back to their towers and then return here as soon as possible," Professor McGonagall said and the other houses began to file out of the hall, all of them murmuring about how this could have possibly have happened. 

He watched as a very disappointed Cho walked past him with her teammates, each of them looking exactly like Harry felt at the moment (or perhaps worse since their team had been losing.) At least they could go to their rooms and sulk privately. He had to do it in a room full of people. The rest of his team must feel the same way because none of them were speaking to each other for now. Maybe later he'd gather them together and use this time to go over more plays but for now, he just wanted to sit here and be upset. 

************

Nearly bored to sleep, Harry was startled into alertness by someone sitting down across from him rather noisily. 

"We'll get them next time, Harry," Ron, still in his Quidditch robes, said with a sincere look on his face. Harry had grown accustomed to him only looking disappointed and sullen in his presence lately and perhaps someone else's misery was just what Ron needed to get over it. Chances are since it was Harry's misery, Ron was feeling even even better. 

"It should be rescheduled soon," Harry said though no one had even discussed if the match would go on or not. 

"I'm sorry about Hermione, too. Tough break," Ron added, not sounding as sincere as he did a second ago. 

"We'll work it out," Harry mumbled, unsure how they would ever work it out since they had the rest of this year to go through and all of next year and that meant Hermione would have plenty of school work to worry about. 

After that, they sat in silence, neither one of them sure what to say. Harry found it hard to believe that just a few months ago, the three friends sat in this very spot discussing Christmas presents and now. . . now look at them. He also found it hard to believe that not that long ago, he and Hermione thought they could have sex just once and it wouldn't change anything. Instead, it changed absolutely everything. 

It was then that he noticed Hermione talking to the head boy. She nodded her head a few times and then headed toward the door. So far, none of them had even asked to go to the bathroom but he assumed it had to happen sooner or later. Then he thought that this would perhaps be a good chance to talk to Hermione about this morning and about Zoila.

"I'll be back in a few minutes. Watch my broom," Harry said, leaving Ron at the table looking rather puzzled until he saw Hermione open the door and go out. Then he looked disappointed and sullen again. 

Harry asked a Hufflepuff prefect standing nearest to the table if he could be excused to go to the bathroom and before she even had the chance to say yes or no, he was out the door and following Hermione. 

Only, Hermione wasn't going towards the bathroom but rather she was heading towards the stairs. He caught up to her in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady who didn't look to pleased to see them. There was a dour looking witch in the frame with her and they obviously disturbed their chat.

"Harry, what are you doing here?" Hermione asked.

"McGonagall said we shouldn't travel around the castle alone -- and what are you doing here?" Harry asked back.

"What are either of you doing here?" the Fat Lady asked. "I'm not supposed to allow any students in until further notice."

"Let them in already," the other witch in the picture said in an exasperated tone. "I don't know how you can stand this job. People bothering you at all hours . . ."

"I can't let you in," the Fat Lady said, shushing her friend. 

"Oh, please let me in. I really have to get my textbooks. I have a paper due in Arithmancy and that was the only book I didn't have with me when I was in the library and I need it," Hermione pleaded and Harry rolled his eyes. 

"When is your paper due?" the Fat Lady asked and Harry knew that Hermione's answer of 'Monday' was a lie by the look on her face. 

"Will you let her in if I go with?" Harry asked on Hermione's behalf. Hermione looked surprised by the gesture. 

"Let them go and get it over with. If they die, they die," the other witch said and the Fat Lady tried to quiet her again. 

"I don't know . . ." the Fat Lady said.

"We both have our wands with us. It will be okay," Harry said, pulling his wand from his Quidditch robes. He was sure that anything on the other side of the portrait hole couldn't possibly compare to what he had already seen in the last few years. 

"Yes, we'll be okay if we're together," Hermione added, sounding desperate now. 

"On second thought, the two of them do look like troublemakers," the witch said and this time the Fat Lady pushed her out of the frame.

"Password?" the Fat Lady finally asked and relief washed over Hermione's face. 

"Winsome," she said and the portrait opened and Harry followed her into the common room. 

"You went through all of that for a book?" Harry asked, looking around. "And how did you know no one would be up here?" 

"All the professors were in the Great Hall and Filch, too, so I assumed they were finished up here. Are you coming with so you can keep me safe?" she said with a quick eye roll before heading towards the stairway to the girls' dormitory rooms. 

"Am I still a girl?" Harry asked and Hermione gave him a questioning glance until she realized what he was talking about.

"Of course you are."

Harry followed her up, taking this opportunity to ask about her package from this morning. "So, what did Drew send you?" 

"Why do you care so much?" Hermione asked as they reached the door to the room. 

"I don't care. I was just curious."

"And jealous. I don't know why you would be since you seemed to have moved on just fine," Hermione said. Harry followed her into the room and his eyes began scanning around, looking for the package she received this morning. He couldn't see it anywhere. 

"What?" he asked as she went through her books, taking much more than her Arithmancy book from the pile. 

"You've moved on. I told you that this would just be for a while and somehow, you managed to meet someone else," Hermione said, sounding as if she might start crying at anytime now. 

"Who did I meet?" Harry asked. 

"That girl you're always with. The one you're always going out to Quidditch practice with. The one with the yellow eyes," she said, turning away from him while pretending to flip through a book. 

"Zoila Witherite?"

"Is that her name?" Hermione asked although Harry was sure Hermione already knew her name.

"Are you kidding?" Harry asked, unable to believe that Hermione thought he moved on that quickly. And with a twelve year old. 

"You're always together."

"Hermione, she's twelve years old," Harry said, his voice going up a pitch, upset that this was even coming up. 

"And you're Harry Potter," Hermione said, turning around to face him. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asked, not sure how his identity made a difference in this situation. 

"If I were a twelve year old girl, I'd want to hang out with Harry Potter," Hermione said. 

"When you were a twelve year old girl, you did hang out with him. . . . I mean me," Harry said. 

"But now you're sixteen and Quidditch captain and . . ."

"None of this mattered back when you were seeing Krum. He's a world famous Quidditch player and you thought nothing of it. You weren't worried about other girls wanting him so why worry now?" Harry asked. 

"He wasn't really my boyfriend. He was a pen pal," Hermione said. She tossed her books on the bed and turned away from him. "Besides, back when we were twelve, you were just . . . you were just Harry. You were just my friend and not my boyfriend."

"I didn't know I was your boyfriend now," he said. He was angry and confused and he still couldn't get over that Hermione thought he'd be interested in Zoila or that she was acting this way over who he was when he had no control over the matter. 

"It wasn't supposed to be for a long time. Just until I got better marks. I didn't think . . ."

"Hermione, I didn't meet someone else. And besides that, this was all your plan in the first place. You're the one who wanted time to study and I gave it to you. Apparently, you have no bloody clue as to how much I've missed you," Harry said, walking over to her. He took her arm and turned her around so she would face him.

"You didn't say anything. All these weeks you've done nothing but avoid me," she said. 

"That's what you wanted," Harry said, growing more confused as to what Hermione really wanted from him. "You wanted me to avoid you so you could study. You're mad at me because I gave you what you wanted?"

"Yes," she answered. 

"I can't believe any of this!" Harry said, adding frustration to the muddle of what he was feeling inside. 

"You didn't look like it was bothering you. We weren't together and you simply went on with your life. Quidditch practice seemed more important," she said with a huff. 

"Your studies were more important in the first place, so I don't know what you're complaining about," Harry said in turn. 

"My studies are important to me, Harry, but you're more important," Hermione said and Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. These were the words he wanted to hear all the weeks they had been apart but now that she was saying them, he didn't feel the happiness he imagined he would.

"When did you reach that conclusion? Once your marks were better than Padma's? And if you're looking for someone to beg you to come back, there's always Drew. Judging from the size of the gift he sent, he must miss you terribly," Harry said and he could tell from the expression on Hermione's face that his words stung. 

"Maybe he does. And maybe this whole thing with you was a big mistake! I should have never broken up with him and I should have never slept with you!" she shouted at him. 

"Is that really how you feel?" Harry asked, his heart beating so fast he could barely hear his own words. 

"No, you silly git! Didn't you hear what I said? I love you and the rest of it doesn't really matter!" she said, taking a cautious step towards him and reaching for his hands. It was then that he realized he had been clutching his wand tightly this whole time. Hermione plucked it from his fingers and tossed it aside. 

"Hermione . . ." he started but he forgot what he was going to say as soon as she took his hands in hers and pulled him to her. 

"What?" she asked, moving even closer. So close that he could feel her warmth through his Quidditch robe. 

"I'm still mad at you," he said, trying to pull his thoughts together and not let her distract him too much. That got a lot harder when she kissed him softly. He didn't kiss her back. 

"And I'm still mad at you but I've missed you so much," she said, her words warm against his lips. She released his hands and moved hers to his chest, slowly traveling to his shoulders. He stopped her before she could tug his robes off. 

"There's no time for that," he said, using his body to move her closer to the wall. Instead of focusing on his robe, Hermione was now tugging at his pants, trying to unfasten them quickly. When she came to a stop against the cold castle wall, she had a hand inside his pants and pulled him free. The contact made him painfully hard.

"The door --" Hermione started to say. 

"No one else would even think of coming up here," Harry said and Hermione didn't say another word about it. 

His hands went under her skirt, easing her knickers down until she could step out of them. With her back pressed against the wall, she wrapped her legs around him and he thrust into her. Her fingers were now clutched so tightly to his Quidditch robe he was afraid she might tear the fabric and there would be no way to explain that. There was really no way to explain any of this at this point. A few hours ago they weren't talking and now she was around him, so wet and hot he thought he might melt. That would be even harder to explain.

He wasn't lying when he said he was still mad at her. She'd try to kiss him and he would pull away, choosing to watch her face as he pushed into her as hard as he could. He knew he wouldn't be able to stay upset for long as she looked into his eyes, her own filled with longing. He wasn't ready to see that yet; wasn't ready to forget that she made his life hell for the last few weeks. 

With a swift movement, he carried her to the bed and set her down gently, breaking their contact. Hermione looked surprised but before she could say anything, he instructed her to turn over. 

"Why?" she asked, her voice breaking. 

"I want you to," he answered simply and she did as he asked, ending up in a position she had never been in with him before. He could hear her breathing rapidly now, as if she was scared or nervous. He reached out and caressed her, his fingers touching in a way that made her jump. "Don't worry. I would never hurt you . . . I mean, after the first time . . . I would never hurt you intentionally."

"Will you shut up already! I'm not worried but you better get back inside of me before I scream," she said, her back arching when his fingers reached the right spot. "Or you could keep doing that."

He did just that, enjoying the view of her writhing around as he moved faster. He'd tease her, letting his hand slip away, and she'd moan desperately, moving around until he made contact with her again. She called out his name as she came, burying her face into her blankets to muffle the sound of her voice. 

Climbing up on the bed behind her, he quickly slipped into her wetness. She lifted her head up and gasped loudly when he pushed in as far as he thought he could go. Pushing back against him, he felt all her inner walls pulse, making him moan. His hands held onto her hips, pushing her skirt up as high as it would go, and continued to thrust into her. He was dressed in far too much clothing and he could feel the sweat dripping down his brow, droplets landing on the lenses of glasses. 

"We have to get back soon," Hermione said, her voice strained. "Go faster."

He did just that, knowing that the next time they were together it would be different than this. It would planned and not just something that happened. Then again, maybe this didn't just happen. Maybe Hermione knew he would follow her. 

"Please don't leave me," he said softly and she stopped thrusting back against him. "Not yet. Don't leave me yet."

"No, not yet," she said, sounding hollow and sad. He needed her and although he wanted this to last forever, he was never sure how long their forever would be. Days or months or years . . . whatever it was he needed her. 

It wasn't long before he was coming hard inside of her, his head spinning with all the sensations and with the thought of having Hermione back again. The thought of what might happen because she was with him scared him and he tried to shake the fear out of his mind and enjoy the moment. 

He pulled out of her and gently tucked himself into his pants. Hermione rolled over and sat on the edge of the bed, her skirt out of place. She picked up his wand from off the bed and slowly moved her fingers over it (as if it was one more thing for her to study) before handing it back to him. She looked very contemplative and opened her mouth several times to speak before finally getting the words out. "You do know you could have almost any girl . . ."

"I don't want any girl. I want you," he said, reaching his hands out to her. He pulled her up and into his arms, holding her tight. He had already gone through this with Ron and he didn't really feel like going through it with Hermione now, too. "You and not some twelve year old. You and not Cho. Just you."

"I know that. I just want to be sure you know it, too," she said. 

"Are you sure you want this again? It won't take up too much time?" he asked, scared of her answer. 

"I'll try to work on managing all my classwork and this relationship at the same time," Hermione said, casting her eyes down from his. 

"It's okay. It's important to you and if you need time, just tell me. Don't break up with me even for a little while. Please?" he asked and she looked back up at him and nodded. 

"We have to go. They must be wondering what happened to us by now," Hermione said, pulling away from him and looking around for her knickers. She found them and pulled them back on before going about fixing her mussed up hair. Harry stood behind her, looking into the mirror. His hair was standing up in all different directions, much like it normally did. 

She turned around and straightened his robes, tugging them back into place. She messed with his hair, trying to get it to do something it never would. 

"Thanks," he said as she pulled her hand away from his hair and ran it down his chest. 

"You have no clue, do you?"

"About what?" he asked, confused. 

"Nothing," she said, walking towards the door. 

"You came up here for your books. Shouldn't you at least take them with?" Harry asked, reminding Hermione that there was a purpose to her trip up here. She turned around, grabbed her books and started towards the door again. 

"You better wipe that silly grin from your face, Harry, or else people will wonder what you were doing," she called to him as she walked down the stairs to the common room with him following close behind. He wanted to reach out to her, to stop her and give her a long, hard kiss, but he thought better of it. They really did need to get back. 

As soon as they were through the portrait hole, they ran into a frantic looking Ron. "What have you two been doing all this time? People are starting to notice that you're gone," he said, his hands moving as quickly as he was talking. 

"I had to get my books," Hermione said, holding out the pile of texts in her arms for him to see. 

"You risked your life to get your bloody books? And what about you? What are you doing here?" Ron asked, turning to Harry. 

Harry didn't really have an easy answer to that question so he said nothing. Unfortunately, the Fat Lady's guest wasn't as willing to stay quiet. 

"You aren't dead? How disappointing. I thought by now the two of you surely would be dead," she said, only to be shushed again by the Fat Lady. 

"We have to get out of here before Professor McGonagall --" Ron started to say but never had the chance to finish his sentence. 

"Before I do what, Mr. Weasley?" Professor McGonagall said, seeming to come out of nowhere. 

The three students jumped at the sound of her voice and turned towards her form moving quickly down the corridor. Even after all these years, Harry's heart still started pounding whenever he was caught doing something he wasn't supposed to be. Sneaking off with Hermione was definately one of those things he didn't want to be caught doing. 

"Before . . ." Ron began to answer but the pinched look on McGonagall's face let them all know they should remain silent. 

"I should have known the three of you were up to something. Please come with me so we can discuss this further," the professor said and after exchanging several sheepish glances, they did what they were told. 

**************

To Be Continued . . .


	5. Chapter 5

Reeling over the loss of points and impending detentions for their absence from the Great Hall, Ron, Hermione and Harry each climbed into their individual sleeping bags and tried to fall asleep. Unfortunately, the hall was abuzz with Gryffindor students carrying on about one thing or another. Harry heard his name mentioned by a group of first years and tried to shut those conversations out. He didn't want to hear how he was to blame for a loss of at least twenty of those sixty house points McGonagall took away from them nor did he want to hear anyone speculate that he might be responsible for what else was happening at Hogwarts. He had enough of that over the years and he wasn't in the mood for more tonight. 

"I hope it was worth it, you two sneaking off like that and all," Ron said from his sleeping bag. "I can't see why you would both risk your lives . . . or points . . . to retrieve a couple of books."

"What books?" Harry asked, completely forgetting what Hermione was up there for in the first place. She gave him a kick from inside her sleeping bag. "Ow--yeah. Hermione and her books."

"Yes, Hermione and her books and you always making sure she's okay," Ron said, sounding more exasperated. 

"No one asked for you to come find us," Harry said, trying to keep his voice at a whisper. 

"I didn't want the two of you to get into trouble or killed by whatever was up there earlier. How was I supposed to know McGonagall was going to show up?" Ron asked. Harry was thankful that his friend was looking out for them even if it failed in the end and he was more thankful that Ron's presence in the corridor took away any suspicion that he and Hermione had been alone up in the tower. Harry wasn't sure what to say to his friend. 

Hermione took care of that for him.

"Thank you, Ron, for trying to warn us," she said. "I'm sorry you got into trouble, too."

"Yes, thank you, Ron," Harry muttered. Hermione moved her sleeping bag around until she was as close to Harry as she could get without it being too obvious. Ron must have figured out what all that rustling was because he turned over to face away from them and feigned sleep. 

"Hermione, there are too many people around," Harry whispered, looking around the dim hall to see if any of the prefects were watching. As much as he wanted to climb out of his sleeping bag and into hers, he didn't want to get into more trouble today. 

"Shhh . . . I don't want to do anything. I just want to be here next to you. It's the nearest we might ever get to spending a night together," she said, taking his hand in hers. 

"But we have spent the night together like this before. Or rather, you've spent several nights at my bedside when I was in hospital. And how many nights have we spent together in the common room . . ." Harry was asking when he felt Hermione place a finger on his lips to silence him. 

"You know what I mean. I'm just happy that we're back together again. I didn't realize how much I missed you until we were in my room and --" Hermione started but Ron coughed to let them both know he was still awake and could still hear them. "Are you still angry with me?"

"After today? Are you kidding?" Harry asked only to be met with more of Ron's coughing. 

"We better stop talking before he chokes," Hermione whispered, moving in close enough to give Harry a quick good-night kiss. He kissed her back and they separated a little. Neither of them wanted to move too far away. 

He listened as she fell asleep, her breathing growing soft and even. He couldn't sleep just yet, his mind still going over the events of today. The person who broke into Hogwarts must have known that nearly the entire student body would have been out for the Quidditch match at that time so they must have some inside knowledge as to the happenings around here. But he didn't understand why they would try to come through Hermione's dorm room. Or how? Was it a trick, a student convincing everyone that the castle walls had been breached when they hadn't?

Watching her sleep, he reached out to push a strand of hair away from her face and touched her cheek. Was this all because they were together now? Did someone really think that getting to her was the easiest way to get to him? Nothing had really changed between them in that respect. For years now, he would have done anything to protect his friends and that didn't change because he was dating Hermione. As crazy as Ron made him lately, he knew if it came down to it, he would do just as much to protect him as he would for Hermione. Harry's eyelids began to get heavy. The events of the day had worn him out and he couldn't think anymore. He needed to shut his eyes and sleep. He just wanted to sleep . . .

Harry was somewhere so bright that he could barely keep his eyes open. Shading them with his hand, he looked around and realized that he was alone . . . no, more than alone. 

He was the only inhabitant of this white world or at least it felt that way. Once his eyes adjusted to the brightness, he tried to figure out what exactly this place was. For as far as he could see, there was nothing but intense light. There was no difference between the sky and ground and no horizon was visible in the distance. Even with all the light, this place wasn't warm. It was cold and . . . lifeless.

Then it started. Harry clapped his hands over his ears, trying to escape from the cacophony of voices going on around him but his hands weren't enough. He could still hear some crying for help while others merely whimpered in pain. 

"Who are you?" he cried out, trying to make his voice rise above all the others, but no one answered him. All he could feel was sadness the likes of which he hadn't felt since he'd last been around the Dementors. Could that possibly be what was causing this pain he was experiencing? 

"It's the boy," someone said. It was the only voice distinct enough for him to understand. "He can't help us. It's because of him that we're here and dying."

The other voices starting wailing, creating a sound so hollow that it hurt Harry's stomach. 

Another voice chimed in, trying to talk over the others, and it was vaguely familiar to Harry. "He's a powerful wizard. If he tries, he can help."

"Does he know he has it in him?" another voice said.

"You would think so by now . . ."

He stumbled around, trying to find the source of the voices and only finding more light. The wailing voices never seemed to move. They stayed right above his head, encircling him. 

As hard as he tried to fight it, the pain surrounding him was becoming overwhelming. In all his years, he had never felt as alone as he did right now. Not even being locked in the cupboard as a small child could compare to this. The realization that he was so incredibly alone made him drop to his knees as he fought the urge to cry. He couldn't hold back the tears, thankful his scar didn't hurt. Maybe this was what it was like to be dead . . .

"Harry! Harry, wake up!" Hermione said, shaking him. 

"What happened?" he asked, his eyes opening to find that there was no bright light here, only darkness. Dim stars twinkled on the ceiling above him but that was it. 

"You . . . you were crying," Hermione said, edging in closer to him so they could talk freely without waking up the others around them. 

"No, I wasn't," Harry said, quickly moving to wipe the evidence away from his eyes. He had fallen asleep with his glasses on and they got in the way now. 

"It's okay. It's only me," she said, pulling his glasses from his nose and putting them somewhere safe. 

"I wasn't crying," he said, not quite sure why that dream had such an effect on him. It was only a dream. 

"Okay, you weren't crying but are you all right?" she asked and he didn't have an answer. All he knew was he wanted to hold onto her and never let her go and to hell with the sleeping bag that separated them or the head boy or girl that might be watching. He did just that, pulling her as close as he possibly could. 

"I'll be all right," he said, trying to shake off the feeling of cold despair his dream had created and focus instead on the warmth of his girlfriend in his arms. 

"Can you tell me about it?" Hermione asked. Someone a few sleeping bags over shushed them but that didn't stop Harry from answering. 

"I don't think I can explain it yet. I was somewhere . . . I don't know where it was," Harry said, closing his eyes. His memory of the dream was starting to fade quickly and he couldn't get it back. All that was left was the emptiness. 

"It was only a dream," Hermione said with a yawn. 

"Yes, it was only a dream."

**************

The days were going by far too fast for Harry's liking and he was dreading the approaching summer more this year than he had ever before. He had no idea how he was going to be able to survive the whole summer without Hermione and the thought of being apart from her that long made his heart ache. He looked at her from across the table in the common room and sighed. 

"You need to be studying," Hermione said, looking up at Harry from the book in front of her. She then turned to Ron. "Both of you."

Ron picked his head up off the table and pretended to be looking at his book before putting his head back down. "Maybe something will happen again this year and they'll cancel exams. Harry, make something happen so they get canceled, will you?"

"And risk having to go back to the Dursley's early? No way," Harry said, not failing to catch the slight smile that formed on Hermione's lips. 

"You need to make it so they just cancel the exams and let us stay here," Ron said, lifting his head long enough to flip the page he never looked at. "Or you could come to the Burrow for the summer though I'm sure Dumbledore wouldn't allow it. He never does."

"You know why he won't. This isn't the first year he wants me to go back to the Muggles and you know all the reasons why," Harry said. 

"Still, we could probably work something out if what happened was horrible enough," Ron said.

"How could it be more horrible than what happened to Cedric? I still had to go home after that," Harry said and the mention of Cedric Diggory's name silenced Ron for a bit. 

"The two of you could study and then you wouldn't have to worry about conjuring up something horrible enough to make them cancel the exams. Really, exams aren't that bad," Hermione said and Harry and Ron both looked at each other, Ron rolling his eyes a bit. 

"She's completely mad," Ron said. 

"I'm right here. I can hear you," Hermione said, pulling another book off of the large pile sitting on the table next to her. She started to thumb through it before casting it aside and grabbing another. "I can't find it. Why can't I find it? I just read it last night!"

"Do you need some help?" Harry asked, reaching for one of her books before she stopped him. 

"What I need is silence," Hermione said, sounding very frustrated now. Harry pulled his hand back, knowing better than to get in her way when she was studying. If he disturbed her too much, she might consider them separating again for a while and with the end of the year so close, he couldn't risk it. 

"Ron, would you like to go out to the Quidditch pitch? I haven't had the chance to get out there since we beat Ravenclaw and I'd really like to before the term is over," Harry said and Ron perked right up. 

"I'd love to!" he said, packing up his books as quickly as he could. 

"You two are going to fail!" Hermione said, her voice tense, the expression on her face even more tense. 

"We haven't yet. Give me your books, Ron, and I'll take them up to our room and get our brooms," Harry said, piling up the books. He dashed up the stairs and was back in a few minutes, carrying both of their brooms. After he finished Hogwarts, Fred donated his broom to Ron and although it was old compared to Harry's, it was better than what he had before. 

"You're going to fail," Hermione muttered one more time and Harry gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving her to her studies. 

On their way to the pitch, Ron and Harry chatted about various professional Quidditch teams (mostly the Chudley Cannons who in Ron's opinion had a phenomenal year) and how they were certain that Professor Snape's exam would be unfair. They also talked about how Ron might be going to Romania for part of the summer but Harry could still come to The Burrow if things got too bad at the Dursley's. 

When they were nearly to the pitch, Ron changed the subject entirely. "So, what's it like?" he asked. 

"What's what like?" Harry queried back. 

"You know, what's sex like? Is it as good as it sounds?" Ron asked and Harry nearly dropped his broom. 

"Why do you think I would know?" Harry asked, trying to regain his composure. He started walking faster towards the pitch, his face turning crimson. He wasn't sure what to tell his friend or if even wanted to. 

"Oh, give it up, Harry! You think we all haven't noticed you sneaking off in the middle of the night? Then you and Hermione disappear for hours at a time . . ."

"Hours? I don't think so," Harry said, screwing up his face. They had tried to be careful so no one would notice. Hermione was afraid that Professor McGonagall would send a letter to her parents if they were caught. As much as he would like to claim that he could make it last that long, with the exception of Valentine's Day, they were rarely gone for more than half an hour.

"That's not the point. I was just curious as to what it was like," Ron said, not giving up. 

"You said you didn't want to know about anything she and I have done together. I remember you telling me that," Harry said, still trying to avoid the topic. They were on the pitch now and Harry wanted to do nothing more than get on his broom and escape. He was sure that teenage boys were supposed to brag all about it to their other male friends, but this was different. It concerned Hermione and he didn't want to say anything that would hurt her . . . or would get him hurt if she found out. He didn't want to have Hermione angry at him when they had so few days left together before summer, especially since he wanted to be with her again at least one more time.

"You don't have to give me any specifics," Ron said with an exasperated sigh. 

"I really wouldn't know any specifics," Harry lied. 

"I just wanted to know if it was good." Ron was looking down at the ground now, kicking at the grass. He looked slightly hurt that Harry wouldn't share this bit of secret information with him. 

"I'm sure you're going to meet someone soon, Ron, and then you'll know and then you can tell me."

Harry got on his Firebolt and eased it into the air, hovering just above the ground. Ron still didn't look up at him but instead continued to focus on that same bit of grass. He had a feeling that Ron was just testing him, pushing to see just how far he and Hermione had gone. He probably didn't want to hear the truth at all. 

"Or you could just answer the bloody question," Ron said. Since he kept pushing the issue, Harry was going to give Ron what he thought he wanted. He prepared to take off on his broom as soon as he answered, not wanting to see the expression on his friend's face afterwards, and then told Ron the truth. 

"At first, it was just okay. It was good and all, or at least it was for me, but now . . . there's only one thing I could imagine would be better and that would be seeing the death of Voldemort. Other than that . . . yeah, it's great."

And with that, he was off. 

***************

The tiny room was stifling to begin with and the heat they were generating under the invisibility cloak wasn't helping matters any. Harry could feel the sweat forming on his brow as Hermione moved over him, her body hot and tight around him. Every move she made was slow and deliberate and he thought he was going to go insane. 

"Hermione, you're killing me!" he said, wrapping his hands around her waist and urging her to move faster. She bent over far enough to give him one kiss before she went back to her torture. 

"I want this to last," she said, pulling his hands from her waist. Their fingers entwined and he held on tight. He swore he could feel her heartbeat through his own hands and it pulsed through his body to his chest. Even though he knew what real magic was, he was completely convinced this moment was just as magical as anything he had been taught here over the years. 

As if wishing made it true, time did feel like it was slowing down around them. Harry tried to memorize every last detail of this moment so he'd have something to take home with him. He was going to need it to make it through the long summer ahead. 

Hermione held onto his hands even tighter, moving enough to nearly let him slip out before sinking back down again. Taking him in until he could go no further, she stopped, clenching all her muscles around him. 

"This isn't going to last much longer if you keep that up," Harry said through clenched teeth and in the dim light that barely made it through the cloak, he could see Hermione teasingly smile at him. 

"Remember the first time we did this and I couldn't wait for it to be over?" she asked. 

"I remember it well," Harry said, quite certain there was no way he'd ever forget that day for the rest of his life. Someone could perform a memory charm on him and he was sure he'd still remember it. 

"What was wrong with me?" she asked. 

"It wasn't like it is now," he said, thrusting up into her. He pulled a hand away from hers and ran it down her stomach and downwards. She stopped moving as he concentrated only on her, wanting to feel her come while he was inside her body. He circled her clitoris, pressing until he could feel her tighten around him, gasping for breath. She closed her eyes and squeezed his hand, her nails digging into his flesh. "We had no clue what we were doing then and now . . ."

"We're bloody fantastic together," Hermione said, her body shuddering around his. It was almost enough to make him come with her but then she fell forwards, letting him slip out. He moaned his displeasure but she silenced him with a deep kiss, their bodies now sticking together. She placed quick little kisses all over his face and his forehead, pushing his hair aside to do so. 

Shifting a little, she reached between them and guided him back inside. After easing down, she held onto his hands, her face just a little bit over his, as she started to move once more. His eyes were locked onto hers and at that moment he was convinced he could never love anyone this much ever again. It would be impossible. She was now the other half that made him whole and no one else on earth could possibly fit like she did. 

It didn't take much longer and he felt the room whirl around him as he came, his eyes fluttering shut and for a few seconds. There no longer was enough oxygen in the room and everything started to slip off into a terrific white light. Then he felt her fingers still clutching his, bringing him back to this place. 

"How am I going to make it the whole summer without you?" Harry asked as he tried to catch his breath, his head spinning now from the heat and the feel of her body still around his. 

"Don't think about it right now," Hermione said but that was impossible. Exams were over and this was the last time they'd be able to sneak away before it was time to depart for the summer. 

"I'll run away and stay at the Leaky Cauldron. You can come see me there," he said, his brain trying to figure out how he'd get that one by all the people who kept close tabs on him. Maybe there was another place he could stay where no one would know him and they wouldn't be able to find him. 

"My parents wouldn't let me do that. Harry, it's going to be okay. We'll figure it out," she said. 

"I don't want to lose you."

"How would you lose me?" she asked. 

"Time. Distance. Someone else," he said. 

"That's not going to happen. That will never happen. You are everything to me and I'm not going to leave you again," she said, kissing him gently on the lips. 

Hermione slid down next to him, and they snuggled under the cloak, using it as a blanket now. There wasn't a point to it in here since their clothes were strewn everywhere and it was rather obvious that this closet was occupied but they needed it to get back. 

"Promise me that if anything happens this summer . . . if anything looks even the slightest bit out of place, you'll call me straight away. You'll do that, won't you?" Harry asked, pulling her close. Their legs tangled together and he held her hand up, playing with her fingers. 

"I will but nothing is going to happen to me. I won't let it," she said. 

"Still, promise me, okay? I don't care what Uncle Vernon says or does to me. Call me at anytime if something is strange or even for no reason at all. Luckily, you have a phone at home and you know how to use the post properly. Maybe he won't mind as much if we communicate that way rather than through Hedwig even if the regular post is slower," Harry said. He didn't want this day to end and he certainly didn't want to return to the Dursleys. This was the last summer he'd have to ever spend at Privet Drive. Next summer, his schooling would be over and he'd never have to speak to them again. That would probably make them all too happy. 

He only had a vague idea of what he was going to be doing with his life then but he hoped Hermione was a big part of it. They usually didn't discuss it much, afraid they'd jinx any future they might have by hoping for too much. 

"This year has been quiet," Hermione said. 

"Too quiet," Harry added. The fact that very little happened this year had been weighing heavily on his mind for a while now. The two incidents where they believed someone had broken into the school were still unexplained but some were blaming it on Peeves and some sort of trick he was pulling. Others felt that the detectors placed around the school to catch such things were too sensitive and there was never anyone really there. 

Harry didn't believe either of those theories but there wasn't much he could do about it now. He was sure that someone would be looking into it over the summer and everything would be back to normal at the beginning of the school year. 

"We better go back soon before anyone notices we're gone. I don't want Ron to suspect anymore than he already does," Hermione said. 

"Hermione, about that . . ."

"About what?" she asked, curling around him even more even though they both knew this had to end soon. 

"About Ron. He already knows," Harry said, afraid of what was coming next. 

"What!?" Hermione asked, propping herself up to look at him. "You told him?"

"Not exactly," Harry said.

"Then what exactly?" she asked.

"Okay, maybe I did . . . but he kept asking and I lied for as long as I could," he said and she flopped back down beside him. "It's not that bad, Hermione. I love you so it's not like we're just sneaking off for a quick shag. Ron won't tell anyone."

"I know but it's just odd thinking someone else knows. I mean, someone else besides Peeves," Hermione said with a sigh. "It was our own little world."

"It still is," Harry said, pulling Hermione until she was on top of him again. They kissed for a long time, and she moved her body against his until there was no way they were going back up to Gryffindor Tower anytime soon. 

"As long as Ron already knows, we might as well stay down here for a while longer," Hermione said, rolling them until he was on top, her legs wrapped high around his waist. The invisibility cloak was forgotten beside them now but that didn't make the room any cooler. 

"We might as well," he said, propping himself up so he could look down at her. Her hand darted out, quickly tousling his damp hair, and he smiled. "This is going to be the longest summer of my life."

"Oh, Harry, I'll talk to my parents. They don't know about this so they won't question why I want you to come visit beyond the fact that you're my best friend. Maybe since they're Muggles, your uncle will let you come visit without question and without hassling you like he does when you go to the Weasley's. We'll even come and pick you up in a car," Hermione said. 

"I'd love that but don't get your hopes up," he said, sighing. Moving so he was brushing against her sex, she pulled him down so he was pressed to her body, her breasts soft under his chest. 

"That will just make coming back for our last term that much sweeter," she said, kissing him as he slid into her body one final time. 

**********

They made their way towards Gryffindor tower in silence, having to dart behind a suit of armor when Professor Snape came around the corner. Hiding under the invisibility cloak, they held their breath until he passed but he looked too preoccupied to care about them or anything else that might be in this hallway. Several other professors soon followed, all with the same look on their faces.

"Something must be going on," Hermione whispered when he was gone and they started towards their tower again.

"It's too quiet," Harry said. It was more quiet than usual on the last night before summer. When they were making their way down here earlier, he saw many of the older students sneaking around, probably trying to get in one last good shag before it was time to go home. At least they weren't breaking the rule about taking someone with when wandering about the castle. Nearly everyone had someone with them.

Harry found it strange that there wasn't even the usual chatter coming from the portraits lining the wall. Many of them did most of their visiting in the evening hours but that didn't seem to be so tonight.

They got to the portrait of the Fat Lady and Hermione pulled off the cloak in order to give the password. They waited for a few seconds before noticing that although she was staring right at them, the Fat Lady wasn't saying a word. She wasn't moving, either. Instead, she looked like a Muggle portrait instead of her usual self.

"I think we just discovered what's going on," Hermione said. Harry ran to another portrait down the hall and the old wizard in it was indeed just as frozen as the Fat Lady. Nobody had been talking because it appeared that nobody could. He never really knew what kind of magic allowed for the portraits to be animated beings but whatever it was, it was gone now.

"How are we going to get in?" Harry asked, looking at the Fat Lady again. He ran his hand over the canvas and it felt cold, as if its life had been sucked out of it and perhaps it had.

"We'll have to wait until someone comes out," Hermione said, sitting down across the way, the cloak bunched up in her lap.

"What if they can't get out?" Harry asked.

"Getting out is never the problem," Hermione said, staring up at the portrait as if she were on a class trip to a museum and had to write a paper on it later.

"Maybe we should tell someone. The professors might not know that the students can't get into the dormitories," Harry said, sitting down next to Hermione.

"And get into trouble for being out of the dormitory in the first place? I don't think I want that letter going home to my parents. They would never let me see you over the summer if they knew the truth," Hermione said.

"So we just wait until they solve the problem with the portraits?" Harry asked.

"If they can solve it," Hermione said, still watching for signs of life from the Fat Lady.

"Do you think that this might happen to all pictures? I mean, all wizard pictures? What if none of them can move anymore?" Harry asked. He didn't think he could bear the thought of looking at his photo album without the pictures of his parents moving.

"I believe that's a different kind of magic. Colin explained it to me once . . . he really has become an expert at it, you know . . . and he never said how they do the same to paintings and drawings. I think if it was the same process, he might have mentioned it," Hermione said.

"What if this thing with the art has something to do with the two break-ins? I'm not sure how they could be tied together but what if they are? Maybe . . ." Harry started.

"We don't have any art in our dorm room. We did at first but Lavender always felt that the one painting was watching her so we had it removed. You think someone would have to come out eventually," Hermione said and Harry moved closer. He took her hand in his played with her fingers.

"I never want to leave Hogwarts for summer holiday but this year . . ."

"I know," she said softly.

"It's not just about the sex. I want you to know that. Even though I'll miss that all summer, I'll miss just being with you more. Listen to me. I've turned into such a sap," Harry said and Hermione laughed. "I do love you, Hermione."

Before she had a chance to answer, someone else came sneaking back to the dormitory. It was Seamus Finnegan who looked rather surprised to find them sitting there. He started dating a sixth year Hufflepuff named Mandy a few weeks ago and he must have been off with her.

"Did you both forget the latest password?" Seamus asked, turning to the portrait. "Lucky for you I showed up."

"There's something wrong with the Fat Lady. Actually, there's something wrong with all the paintings," Hermione said, releasing Harry's hand and standing up.

"Did anyone tell Professor McGonagall?" Seamus asked and Harry and Hermione just looked at each other. "Ah, that's right. Nobody really knows about the two of you, do they now? You both can hide out for a while and I'll go find her. I'm sure she'll know how to help us get back in there. After I get in, if the portrait closes, I'll open it back up for you. I'm not worried about getting in trouble with her or with me mum or dad."

With that, he took off down the corridor to find Professor McGonagall. Hermione sat back down close to Harry and pulled the invisibility cloak over them both.

"She'll probably notice that we're gone and we'll get in trouble our last night here anyway," Harry said, sighing.

"It was worth it, though," Hermione said and Harry felt a blush rise to his cheeks. "Oh, and Harry . . . I love you, too."

**************

It took a great deal of effort and some charms Harry had never heard of before, but eventually all the dormitories were reopened. Harry and Hermione slipped in behind McGonagall, made it up the stairs to hide the cloak and were back down to the common room and present at the house meeting as if they had been in the tower the whole time. The only one who noticed them show up out of nowhere was Ron who gave them a rather dramatic eye roll. Harry couldn't help but notice that Ron also had a knowing smirk on his face.

"We are investigating the matter at hand and hopefully, it will be solved with all due speed. We don't think it will cause a problem for the students since you will be departing for home tomorrow," Professor McGonagall said, not explaining much.

Hermione raised her hand and McGonagall called her name.

"Professor, I was curious to whether this has happened to only the paintings at Hogwarts or to all magical paintings and portraits?" Hermione asked and was going to go onto another question when Professor McGonagall started speaking.

"At this time, we only know about the ones here at Hogwarts. An owl has been dispatched to the ministry to inform them of the situation. If other pieces of art are effected, I'm sure they will report back to us," she said. Hermione's hand shot back up into the air.

"What about photographs?"

Everyone in the room turned to Colin who shrugged his shoulders. "They seem to be fine for now."

"I suggest you all return to bed and get some rest. I know the tendency for students to want to carouse about on the last night of the term but under the circumstances, I would appreciate it if you would finish packing and turn in for the night," Professor McGonagall said, cutting off Hermione before she could ask more questions. She turned and went out the portrait that was standing wide open now. Two of the seventh year boys decided to guard the entrance all night and they followed the professor out.

Slowly, many of the younger students did return to their dorm rooms but the older ones lingered around a bit longer. Eventually, it was just Ron, Harry and Hermione at one table while some seventh years sat in front of the fire trying to hold onto the last bit of their school days before they had to leave it all behind in the morning.

"When I said you should do something dramatic so we could get out of school, I didn't mean wait until the last minute," Ron said with a smile.

"I had nothing to do with this. Hermione, are you sure you've never read more about the portraits here? You always know everything," Harry said.

"Except for how they were enchanted in the first place," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "I can go look it up if you'd like me to. I have a few books up in my room and I'm sure if I did some research . . ."

"No, that's okay!" Harry said, worried she'd disappear into her books on their last night together for a while. 

"I guess it will have to be a mystery for them to solve over the summer," Ron added.

"I'm sure it will be in the Daily Prophet so we will all know," Hermione said. 

"If I'm lucky, Uncle Vernon will still allow me to receive a paper this summer," Harry said glumly. 

"If he doesn't, I know how to send letters by Muggle post and I'll let you know. We might not even have to use Hedwig at all. That ought to make him happy. And I know how to use the phone properly," Hermione said.

"Uncle Vernon will never let me speak to either of you. Doesn't matter what anyone said to him last year. He can't help himself. He's got to make a big scene first," Harry said. 

"We'll just have to see about that," Hermione said, sounding rather determined that they were going to speak to one another this summer no matter what.

**************

The train ride home wasn't going to last long enough. Harry spent the first part holding Hermione's hand, the two of them talking about everything they could think of, including how the portraits still weren't right this morning. Ron sat across from them, dozing off when the topic would once again return to how much Harry was going to miss her over the summer or how Hermione was going to try to convince her parents to let him come for a visit no matter what his uncle had to say about it. 

Members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team stopped by at different times to say goodbye to Harry and Ron. Zoila Witherite sat by Ron for quite a while and everyone but Hermione discussed their favorite teams and some new plays Zoila was planning to work on over the summer. Harry bought one of everything from the witch with the candy trolley but neither he nor Hermione were interested in eating, leaving it all to Ron and Zoila. 

After the younger witch left, Ron watched Hermione and Harry briefly before excusing himself. "I'm going to, um, check on Ginny . . . to see if she's ready. I'll be back in half an hour, okay?" he asked and Harry smiled at him, glad to see that Ron understood he wanted a few minutes alone with Hermione before their journey ended.

"That girl likes you, Harry," Hermione said as soon as Ron was down the corridor. "And she seems very nice . . . for a second year."

"Can we please not discuss her in the time we have left together?" Harry asked, pulling Hermione closer to his side, his arm wrapped around her shoulder. "There are so many other things I'd rather do."

"Like what?" Hermione asked, a coy smile on her face.

"Like spend the next half hour kissing you."

"That sounds like a great plan," Hermione said, turning around in his arms so they could kiss. He held her as their mouths met, tongues exploring. The train clacked gently down the tracks and soon, she was resting her head against his chest. "It was a strange year. Strange but wonderful this time." 

Harry was still worried about the fact that something incredibly bad didn't happen this year. He wanted to laugh at the thought that he couldn't have a normal year and consider it . . . normal. He fell in love with his one best friend and still had Ron as a best friend, Gryffindor won the house cup and he got pretty good grades on his final exams and for the first time in a long time, he felt as normal as he possibly could considering who he was and the world he now lived in. 

Unfortunately, it was all coming to an end too quickly and he'd have to go spend his time with the Dursleys feeling like a freak until it was time to return to Hogwarts. 

Ron returned and sat across from them again. Hermione didn't move from her spot in Harry's arms and Ron gave them a little eye roll before focusing his attention to the landscape passing by outside the window. 

"We're getting close," he said, sounding too happy to be going home. 

Hermione and Harry both turned to look out the window only to discover that Ron was right. This year (and this train ride) was about to end. 

"It would be best if we didn't say our goodbyes in front of my aunt and uncle," Harry told Hermione and she sat up, disentangling herself from his arms. "Or your parents for that matter."

"Oh, Harry . . ." Hermione said, her voice filled with a sadness that went straight to his heart. 

"Should I leave again?" Ron asked and Harry shook his head. 

"No . . . because we're here," Harry said as the Hogwarts Express pulled into the station. It came to a stop and they watched as students started filing past their compartment and off the train. Crookshanks meowed sharply from the basket he had been sleeping in the whole ride but neither Harry nor Hermione seemed anxious to move. 

"I'm going to go help Ginny with her trunk. Can we still say goodbye in front of your uncle, Harry, or will he suspect something is going on between us?" Ron said, trying to lighten the mood up a little but it didn't work. 

"I'll see you in a few minutes, Ron," Harry said, standing up and offering his hand to Hermione. She ended up in his arms wrapped in a tight embrace. 

"It will all be okay. Just because nothing terrible happened this school year doesn't mean that it's coming over the summer. You can stop worrying," Hermione said, trying to sound as comforting as possible. 

"I know. I just feel better when I can see you every day."

"We'll both be fine and it will be September before we know it," she said, sounding rather doubtful about that. 

Harry didn't want to let her go but knew he had to. Her parents would be anxiously waiting to see her and the Dursleys . . .would be waiting, hoping to get out of their as quickly as possible before someone had the chance to associate them with all the freaks. 

Ron came back, informing them that he grabbed enough trolleys for everyone and that they really couldn't stand here all day. Harry and Hermione pulled apart and he picked up the basket with her cat and handed it to her. He smiled at how much had changed since they got on the train to Hogwarts last September. She was so excited about some boy and now she was his girlfriend instead. At this moment, with the pain of separation upon them, he wasn't so sure that this whole plan was such a good idea. 

Then Hermione smiled before giving him one last kiss and he realized that all her plans were well worth it. 

***********

To Be Continued . . .


	6. Chapter 6

Harry held an envelope, staring at the address printed in a feminine hand, not quite ready to turn it over to Uncle Vernon yet. It had come by the normal post with the rest of the day's mail, but he knew there was still going to be yelling involved. Somehow, yelling was always involved anytime he asked the Dursleys for anything.

This was far too important for him to give up without trying, though. He straightened up, gathered his resolve, and marched into the kitchen. The Dursleys didn't even turn their head to acknowledge he was there.

"Mail, boy?" Uncle Vernon demanded, waving a fat hand at Harry as he continued to stare at the television.

"Uncle Vernon, I have a letter . . ."

Uncle Vernon's face began to turn red before he could even tell him who it was from.

"It better not be from that school of yours," Uncle Vernon said, not taking his eyes off of the television set.

"No, it's not."

"And it better not be from *those* people," he said, the redness now reaching the tips of his ears.

"Those people . . . you mean the Weasleys? No, I don't think they would have used the regular mail. This is from the Grangers," Harry said, looking at the return address once more before handing it over.

Harry already knew what was written in the letter. Uncle Vernon had already put a stop to him getting any mail by regular post once this summer so he had been secretly exchanging mail with Hermione using Hedwig as the go between even though he'd promised he wouldn't. Harry would have complained to his friends at the Order but he didn't really want to tell them why it was so important he needed to get mail. 

He had to have some kind of contact with her and although he deeply desired to pick up the telephone and call, he knew that would never be allowed or if he were allowed, it would come at a price. Instead, Hedwig would bring back a letter in the middle of the night and he would read it over and over until he was too tired to keep his eyes open for another minute.

This particular letter was about Harry going to visit the Grangers and more importantly, visiting them during the week of his birthday. So few of his birthdays had been all that enjoyable and he hoped this year would be different. He wanted to spend it with Hermione. They had worked hard to secretly plan this and he hoped that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would agree.

He watched as Uncle Vernon tore open the envelope and pulled out the letter. It was from Hermione's parents, just like they had arranged several nights ago. Uncle Vernon's eyes skimmed over the words and his expression changed several times.

"This . . . Mr. and Mrs. Granger," he said slowly (pronouncing their name as if it were a dreadful disease).

"Yes?" Harry asked.

"Are they abnormal like you and this Herm . . . this . . . friend of yours? Are they also freaks?" Uncle Vernon asked, unable to pronounce Hermione's name no matter how many times he might have heard Harry say it.

"Oh, no. They're dentists," Harry said and with that, the red on his uncles face lightened up by at least one shade.

"And why should I let you stay there?" he asked. Harry had hoped that getting rid of him for a few days would have been reason enough. They didn't know that Hermione was his girlfriend and he preferred to keep it that way. If they knew that, they would never let him go since that might mean he'd enjoy himself. No, he'd have to come up with an awful reason and the Dursleys would surely say yes.

Harry thought quickly. "You know how I've been complaining about that tooth?" Harry asked, placing his hand on his cheek. Uncle Vernon merely nodded. Harry knew he could complain for ages and none of the Dursleys would have heard.

"What has that got to do with any of this?" Uncle Vernon asked. Harry looked over and saw Dudley staring at him instead of the television, probably waiting for the yelling. Dudley loved it when Harry got yelled at.

"Like I said, the Grangers are dentists. I'm sure they'll be more than happy to have a look at it. That would save you and Aunt Petunia a lot of time," Harry said, knowing he'd never let the Grangers actually touch any of his teeth. Not when Madam Pomfrey could fix it up quickly and without the pain that Muggle dentists liked to inflict.

Harry didn't really care about the tooth anyway. What he did care about is that Uncle Vernon looked like he liked the idea.

"And I see they're willing to pick you up," he said, looking at the letter again. Harry didn't know how much begging Hermione had to do in order for her parents to agree to this but he was thankful for it. The Dursleys would never drive him that far nor would they let him go by himself. He knew that for sure.

"Oh, of course they are," Harry said, not trying to conceal the fact that other people were always willing to do things for him even if the Dursleys were not.

"You better not get into any kind of trouble with this girl," Uncle Vernon said without realizing what he was saying. Aunt Petunia turned towards her husband, her eyes wide. Dudley just snickered. None of them thought Harry knew anything about sex. Little did they know he now knew quite a bit.

"What do you mean, Uncle Vernon?" Harry asked, playing dumb.

"I meant . . . I mean, you better behave when you're in their home," he said, fumbling for words.

"I will, Uncle Vernon. I promise," Harry said, fighting to contain his smile. He knew if he smiled, he might change his mind.

He also knew that when he returned, the Dursleys would most likely figure out some way to punish him for no reason but a few days with Hermione would make it all worth it. A part of him wished that Ron would be able to come, too, but he was in Romania visiting his brother. Another part of him was quite glad that Ron was gone because he would get to be with Hermione alone.

"You're letting him go? Just like that?" Dudley asked, sounding terribly disappointed.

"We'll take the time to go on a little trip ourselves, Dudders. Anywhere you want to go now that we don't have to worry about him," Aunt Petunia said, giving Harry a smug look. Harry didn't care where the Dursleys went as long as he was far away from them.

Since Mrs. Figg had disappeared from the neighborhood, they hadn't even been able to go on Dudley's birthday trip without having to drag Harry along. Of course, Harry knew what happened to his old baby-sitter, but he wasn't about to tell them. Now, the only chance they got to go for a holiday was when Harry would go to the Weasleys. He was old enough to stay on his own but they would never allow it. 

"Uncle Vernon, can I please go call the Grangers?" Harry asked, noticing how happy his uncle looked at the prospect of a little vacation without having to worry about Harry.

"Keep it short, boy. No more than a minute," he said, and Harry rushed for the phone, hoping that it would be Hermione answering.

***************

The meeting with the Grangers was going better than Harry expected. Of course, it helped that they showed up driving a perfectly respectable new automobile and knocked on the front door instead of trying to arrive through the fireplace.

They were also wearing Muggle clothes (Hermione in a pair of blue jeans, much to Harry's keen disappointment since he had been hoping for a skirt) instead of long flowing bright green robes or anything else that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would find abnormal.

Obviously, Hermione had warned her parents to avoid certain topics since Uncle Vernon and Mr. Granger made small talk about the Prime Minister and the weather without the word magic being mentioned once. Uncle Vernon even forced out a small laugh when Mr. Granger joked about them both being in the drilling business. Meanwhile, Aunt Petunia was terribly pleased at how Mrs. Granger was carrying on about how lovely the house was.

Harry looked at Hermione from across the room and smiled a real smile for the first time all summer. He hoped that they could leave soon so he didn't have to worry about the Dursleys changing their minds. And he couldn't wait to be alone with Hermione in the back seat of the car where there was the outside chance he could hold her hand when her parents weren't looking.

"Have you met the Weasleys?" Mr. Granger asked and Uncle Vernon started to turn a funny shade of reddish purple. "Wonderful family . . ."

"That . . . family . . ." Uncle Vernon started to say, his voice now a snarl and his ears tipped in a rather painful red.

"Look at the time!" Hermione said, standing up and interrupting Uncle Vernon. She thrust her wrist out towards Mr. Granger and he quickly realized he said the wrong thing.

"Yes, we should be going. Long drive and all," Mr. Granger said, reaching for his wife's arm. "We'll take good care of Harry and you'll have him back safe and sound in a few days."

"Lovely house. Very lovely house," Mrs. Granger said one more time, trying to smooth over her husband's mistake.

Harry grabbed his large bag (he wasn't about to leave all his school supplies and his wand behind) and rushed out the door with Hermione right behind him. They raced to the car and shut themselves inside before Uncle Vernon could say another word. While Mr. and Mrs. Granger were saying their last goodbyes to the Dursleys at the front door, Hermione leaned over and gave Harry a quick yet sweet kiss. It was a little awkward, after so long apart, but he was sure he could get used to her all over again quickly.

"I've missed you so much. All of you," she said, the look of longing on her face so intense that it made a slow warmth travel through Harry's body, leaving his cheeks flushed. His body also reacted in a few other ways, some slightly more embarrassing than others. Hermione didn't fail to notice this and she smiled, obviously pleased that she still had this power over him.

"Not as much as I've missed you," he said, holding onto her hand while he still had the chance. She pulled away from his touch as soon as her parents got into the car, shutting the doors on the red faced Dursleys.

"Sorry about that, Harry," Mr. Granger said, pulling his car out onto Privet Drive and getting away from there as quickly as he could. "In all my years of drilling away on people's teeth, I don't think I've ever seen anyone turn that particular shade of red. Or was it purple?"

Harry looked out the back window as they drove further away from the Dursleys, happy to be getting away if only for a few days. He saw their newest neighbor, a nice old lady by the name of Mrs. Wobbleton, wave to him from her front yard as her skinny gray cat circled around her ankles. Before he had a chance to wave back, they turned onto a different street.

Looking forwards, he sighed with relief. "That was nothing. He once turned such a bright shade of red that I thought I might have accidentally turned him into an apple . . . except, I don't know how to turn people into apples. Hermione probably does," Harry said proudly and the Grangers laughed nervously. Although the Grangers were quite proud of their daughter, Harry often forgot that they quite possibly had no clue how brilliant of a witch their daughter actually was.

"Er -- yes. Speaking of apples, is anyone hungry? We could stop for a spot to eat soon," Mrs. Granger said and the idea sounded quite agreeable to Harry. It was then that he noticed Hermione hadn't taken her eyes off him yet and his cheeks turned bright red at the thought of all the things he wanted to do to her. That was, if they ever got a chance to be alone.

Knowing Hermione, she had already planned a few dozen ways to make that happen.

*************

"I forgot to tell you that Hedwig arrived this morning. I put her in the guest bedroom and away from Crookshanks. Obviously, your owl was in on our plans," Hermione whispered to Harry as they got out of the car in front of the Granger house. Although, for obvious reasons, it wasn't magical like the Weasley's, it was a very nice house. Better than Uncle Vernon could ever own.

"I couldn't leave her with the Dursleys. Can you imagine what Dudley would do to her?" Harry asked, following Hermione up the front walk, his bag over his shoulder. The only thing he left behind was his broomstick and a few old books, but he hid them well.

Before they could get to the door, a voice behind them said, 'Hello, Hermione."

Both Harry and Hermione turned to look at a teenage boy on his bicycle. Harry guessed he was about his age, only a little taller and stockier . He spoke in an accent Harry hadn't heard in years and he had neatly trimmed light brown hair and big blue eyes that moved from Hermione over to Harry.

"Er -- Drew. Nice to see you," Hermione said, sounding as if it was anything but nice. So this was Drew, Harry thought, looking him over more closely. When Drew looked back at Hermione, giving her a spectacular smile, Harry decided immediately that he hated him more now than he did already.

Harry also wanted to reach for Hermione's hand and hold it in his, but her mother was watching from the doorway. If she found out that they were more than friends now, their time together might come to an abrupt end.

"Hello, Drew! We haven't seen you in a few days. Why don't you come in for some tea?" Mrs. Granger called out. Hermione turned around and shot a nasty look at her mother. She didn't seem to notice. All that Harry noticed was that she said days. Not months or weeks, but they hadn't seen Drew in a few days. He'd have to remember to ask Hermione about that.

"Thank you, Mrs. Granger, but I see that Hermione already has company," Drew said, pouting just a little.

"There's always room for one more. Hermione, dear, aren't you going to introduce your friends to each other?" Mrs. Granger said and now Hermione was also pouting. She waited until her mother was inside the house and the door was closed before she said another word.

"Drew Rowntree, this is Harry Potter. Harry, this is Drew," Hermione said, nodding from one boy to the other.

"So you're him," Drew said.

"Him who?" Hermione and Harry both asked at the same time. Hermione had told Harry that she didn't use him as her excuse to break up with Drew. There were too many other problems besides the fact that they had sex together, although that was certainly a big one.

"The famous Harry Potter," Drew said and that caused both Harry and Hermione's mouths to gape open. There's no way he could possibly know that and if he did know, who was he?

"What do you mean by that?" Harry asked, his hand smoothing his bangs down over his forehead.

"Aren't you the boy . . ."

"The boy who what?" Harry asked, interrupting him as he fought back the fear that was surging through him. Surely he was just some boy who happened to move to Hermione's neighborhood last summer. He was nothing more.

"The boy who stole Hermione from me," Drew finished and Harry let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh, you must be kidding. I was never really yours, Drew. And besides, Harry and I are just friends," Hermione said and Drew laughed.

"Sure you are. I'll see you later, Potter," he said as he got on his bicycle again and peddled away.

Harry stared after him for a moment before turning to Hermione. "That was pleasant. Whatever did you see in him?"

She took a long time to consider her answer. "He's not all that bad."

"Really?" Harry asked, wrinkling up his nose.

"Yes, but he's no Harry Potter," Hermione added, grabbing Harry by the hand and pulling him towards the house.

************

The bedroom door had barely even been closed for less than a minute before Mrs. Granger opened it.

"I'd prefer it if you kept the door open, dear," she said to Hermione while staring at Harry. He was only looking through the hundreds of book titles crammed onto one of her shelves. She had four other bookshelves just like it that he had yet to get to and he was beginning to think she was trying to reproduce the Hogwarts library in her own bedroom.

Meanwhile, Hermione was sitting at her desk, stroking a purring Crookshanks. Here in a room decorated with old childish posters of pastel unicorns (that looked nothing like the real thing) and flowery rose colored bedding, they were quite the picture of innocence.

"Yes, Mum. I'll leave it open," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. Mrs. Granger gave them a smile and looked like she wanted to be invited in to chat with them but Hermione didn't say another word. As soon as her mother's footsteps had retreated down the staircase to the first floor of the house, Hermione got up and closed the door, though not quite all the way.

Harry had just gone back to looking at the books when he felt a hand on his arm. Hermione turned him around so quickly that he lost his balance and sort of toppled into her embrace.

"I'm so happy you're here," she said, holding him tight. Harry's arms wrapped around her and for the first time since he had kissed her goodbye on the Hogwarts Express, he felt as if he were right where he belonged. He leaned down to give her a light kiss on the lips but she wasn't happy with just that. With a quick glance at the partially open door to make sure neither of the elder Grangers were standing about, they both decided it was safe to go just a little bit further.

With the next kiss, her lips parted under his and she moaned as his tongue swirled around her mouth. He didn't know what part of her he wanted to touch first and his hands roamed around until brushing across her breasts. He was tempted to pull her shirt out of her jeans but it was then that he heard a noise outside the door and they both jumped apart.

Hermione straightened out her clothes and went to look. No one was there except Crookshanks, who looked very much like he was standing guard. Harry sat down on Hermione's desk chair while she sat on the edge of her bed.

"This was easier at Hogwarts," she said, flopping back on the bed and sounding as frustrated as he felt. "Oh, there's something important that I haven't told you yet."

"What?" Harry asked apprehensively. He had spent the last two months worried that Hermione might decide to end it again and there was nothing he would be able to do about it while locked up at the Dursleys. Surely, she wouldn't invite him here, kiss him and then tell him she didn't think she could keep doing this? He shouldn't worry but he couldn't help it. This had been the longest summer of his life. The entire term at Hogwarts had gone smoothly -- too smoothly as a matter of fact -- and Harry was just waiting for something to go wrong.

"Do you remember how I always took care of certain . . . things using various charms and potions?" Hermione asked and Harry sighed with relief. This wasn't as bad as what he was considering and he knew exactly what she was talking about. Muggles had their methods of birth control and so did the wizarding world.

"Yes," he said, moving from the chair to the floor near where her feet were dangling.

"I very well can't go practicing magic outside of Hogwarts. I love you, Harry, but I don't want to risk expulsion," she said, lowering her voice in case someone was listening nearby. "Nor do I think we're ready to be parents. That wouldn't fit into my plans very well."

"Probably not," he agreed.

"Not now, anyway," Hermione added and Harry just nodded. As much as he wanted his own family someday, he wasn't so sure what kind of a parent he would be after spending all those years with the Dursleys. He had no clue how one was supposed to be a good parent but he was sure it didn't include locking one child up in a cupboard while you gave the other one everything he asked for.

But Hermione had good parents. Maybe too good. Harry heard someone walking up the stairs and he grabbed a book from the bottom of the pile near Hermione's bed, pretending he had been reading all the while.

"Hermione? Harry?" Mrs. Granger called.

"Yes, Mum?" Hermione said, sitting up so she was facing the door. They were still the picture of innocence as far as Harry could tell.

Mrs. Granger opened the door all the way and Harry looked up at her from his place on the floor. She looked at him curiously and it was then that he realized he had been looking at *the* book. At their book. He had Hermione take it home, worried about what the Durlseys would do if they found it in his belongings. It was well disguised in Hermione's sea of books until Harry pulled it out. He hoped that the figures on the front were sleeping right now and not doing what they were usually doing. Closing the book, he placed it cover down next to him and picked up an old spell book and began flipping through it.

"I was wondering, Harry, what you would like to do for your birthday?" Mrs. Granger asked.

"I don't know, Mrs. Granger," he answered, shaking his head. It wasn't a question he was accustomed to. He knew of all the things Dudley had done for his birthday over the years but he was far too old for a lot of that now. What did boys want to do for their 17th birthday? He knew what he wanted to do but he was pretty sure that wasn't the answer Mrs. Granger would like to hear.

"Don't worry about it yet, Mum. Harry and I will figure out something good to do," Hermione said, causing Harry to blush at all the hidden implications in that.

"Let me know so we can make plans," Mrs. Granger said and that made Harry smile. Perhaps planning things ran in the family. She left again, making sure the door was wide open. They said nothing until they heard her banging pans around in the kitchen downstairs.

"There are other things we can do besides have sex. I came here to see you, Hermione. I wanted to see where you grew up and what your life is like when you're not at Hogwarts. I don't care about anything else," Harry said, turning to look at Hermione. She raised an eyebrow at him. Maybe he did care a little but he didn't want to get them in trouble over it.

"Harry, it's just that I wanted to . . . for your birthday. I planned this for so long and I can't believe I forgot something so obvious," she said.

He picked their book up and stared wide-eyed at what was happening on the cover. They never failed to amuse him with their antics.

"There are other things we can do where we don't have to worry about not being able to use magic," he said, flipping the book open to one of his favorite pages. She reached for the book and smiled nervously at him upon reading it. It was something she had never done to him and he certainly didn't want to pressure her into it. He reached for the book and flipped to another page. "And I wouldn't mind trying this as long as you think you'd like it."

She took the book back again and her cheeks grew red upon reading the passage.

"I -- I think I might like to try both of those things," she said, sliding off the bed onto the floor next to him. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. It was then that they heard her mother drop something downstairs.

"Are your parents light or heavy sleepers?" Harry asked Hermione.

"I don't know but we're going to find out tonight," she answered.

*************

Harry stared at the ceiling of the guest bedroom for as long as he could before quietly getting ot of bed and sneaking down the hall. He thought he heard something moving behind him so he ducked into the bathroom only to find that Crookshanks was at his heels.

"Oh, Crookshanks, be a good kitty tonight and find something else to do," he whispered and the cat blinked twice at him before taking off down the hall. It was if he understood him perfectly. As he continued down the hall, Harry stopped outside of the Granger's closed door and heard only the sound of soft snoring.

Hermione's room was right across from the softly glowing nightlight that had probably been there since she was small. He slipped into her room silently and closed the door behind him, turning the lock with a gentle click.

"What took you so long?" Hermione whispered from her bed and he followed the sound of her voice across the darkness, tripping once over a pile of books.

"I wanted to make sure they were asleep," Harry said, keeping his voice down. Hermione held up the blankets and Harry climbed into bed.

"I couldn't wait any longer. I was about to come to you," she said as they snuggled together, hands roaming freely. "I only wish we could . . ."

"We'll just have to think of something else," he said, quieting her with a kiss. Her mouth opened under his and the soft noise she made in the back of her throat sent a jolt of heat traveling down his body. Tugging up her pajamas, his hands went to her breasts and felt her nipples grow hard under his touch. She pulled away from both his mouth and hands and wriggled all the way out of her gown, tossing it aside. That was the only piece of clothing she had on.

He was growing accustomed to the darkness and in her eyes, he could see that she was as hungry for this as he was. Maybe more so. Moving around, Hermione clung to him now, as if she were afraid to let him go and he held her back just as hard.

"I missed you. I tried everything I could imagine to stop thinking about you but it didn't help," she said.

"So, what did you do beside write me letters? Read all your school books again? Is that why there are spell books piled knee high in here? Or did you visit with friends? he asked, wondering if this was why Mrs. Granger had seen Drew so recently. Maybe Hermione was being friendly with him as a way to distract herself. Harry hated that notion and tried to shake the thought from his mind.

"Besides write to you constantly, I did nothing that really mattered. I was so scared that with time, you'd realize that falling in love with one of your best friends was a silly idea. That's why I wrote you so often," she said and he pulled her up so he was looking into her eyes again. Her fingers slid up the old T-shirt he was wearing for pajama tops and she smoothed her hand over his stomach and to his chest until it was resting over his heart.

"I was afraid you wouldn't need me. That you'd meet another Drew -- or maybe he'd get you back -- and that would be the end of it. I'd be stuck at the Dursleys and you'd be happy. I lived for your letters, Hermione, but I was always worried one would come with the news that it was over," he said, sounding like some scared little boy rather than someone who had dealt with unspeakable things. Losing Hermione would be unspeakable at this point in his life. He needed her.

"That isn't going to happen," she said, her hand moving under the waistband of his pajamas. She wrapped her fingers around the beginnings of his erection and slid them up and down until he was hard.

"Hermione," he moaned softly into the darkness as she pulled her hand away. After removing his glasses and setting them aside, she took his hand in hers, bringing his fingers up to her mouth. There, she kissed them before drawing two fingers into her mouth, sucking. He could barely make her out in the darkness, but what he could see made him grow painfully hard and he quickly shed his bottoms, wanting her mouth elsewhere.

She released his fingers and helped him out of his shirt before placing gentle kisses down his chest and abdomen. When she got down to where he could feel her hot breath against his erection, she turned to look at him. He wanted to say 'only if you want to' but those weren't the words that came out of his mouth. "Please," he said wanting nothing more than to feel her mouth on him.

Turning away from him, she held onto the base of his penis and when he felt her tongue soft as velvet move over the head for the first time, he wanted to scream or laugh or die. He wasn't quite sure which. Maybe all three. His hips bucked up from her bed and he needed to be all the way in. He needed to feel her lips wrapped around him.

And he got what he needed. Hermione put her mouth around him and slowly took him in. He struggled to keep from thrusting into mouth but he couldn't help it. She pulled away, coughing a little and giving him a nasty look.

"Sorry," he mumbled, hoping she wasn't going to quit already. "I didn't mean to but that's bloody amazing, Hermione. Please . . ."

That's all he had to say and her lips were back around him, moving up and down as her tongue swirled and danced everywhere. He reached out and touched her long hair with one hand while the other held on to her sheets for dear life. The wet sounds she made as she moved filled his brain and nothing else seemed to matter but the rhythm of her mouth and tongue. He felt her tongue sweep across the tiny drop of fluid that was forming at the tip and she stopped for just a moment before continuing on.

After so many months of being apart from her without any sexual contact (he was too scared of the Durlseys catching him wanking to even try that) he knew that there was no way he was going to last long. Afraid of coming in her mouth on her first go at this, he pushed her away long before he was ready.

"Did you like that?" she asked, moving back up to face him.

"Oh, yes. Very much," he said, kissing her wet mouth. She tasted salty now and he knew that was the taste of him on her tongue. "It probably felt a lot like this."

With that, he disappeared under the blankets, trailing little kisses over her breasts and down her tummy, stopping to swirl his tongue around her belly button just to make her giggle softly. When he got to where he wanted to be, he eased her thighs apart and heard the giggle turn into a gasp as his tongue made contact for the first time with her clitoris.

He circled and swirled around the little nub and she fell completely silent. Harry was beginning to think that perhaps he was doing it all wrong but then her fingers tangled through his hair and she pulled him closer, obviously wanting more. He gave her more, sucking and licking and feeling her body melt under his mouth. He slipped his tongue inside of her and he had never heard her make noises quite like that before and he hoped she didn't get any louder. It would never do for her parents to come and find him with his head buried between their daughter's thighs.

Sometimes it was hard for him to believe this was the same girl he met on the train years ago -- the one who was against breaking any of the rules. Here she was now, in her childhood bedroom, allowing him to do these things to her with her parents right down the hall.

He slid a finger into her wetness, and then another, stroking her inside while he kept his mouth focused on her clitoris. Between his state of arousal and the heat she was making under these blankets, he was dripping with sweat now. The scent of her so close did nothing to make him any less aroused and he wished he could do something about it.

"OH!" she said a little too loudly and he felt her body quake around his fingers and against his mouth. He didn't let up and replaced his mouth with his thumb, drawing her orgasm out for as long as he could. Finally, she wiggled away, unable to take anymore.

Harry crawled out of under her flowery sheets, his mouth still damp with her wetness. His hips were nestled between her thighs and the nearness of her sex to his was nearly enough to send him over the edge. She kissed him, tasting herself just as he had tasted himself.

"Curious," she said, running her fingers through his soaked hair. She brushed his fringe to one side and then the other, just like she always did. It didn't matter if she couldn't see it or not. She still did it anyway.

"What?" he asked. She was breathless under him, her breasts heaving against his chest. He had no clue what was curious. Maybe she didn't like that or maybe she was just afraid of how easily they now did things to each other. Enjoyable things.

"It just keeps getting better," she said, pulling him down for another kiss. It was long and passionate, her tongue dancing around his mouth. He tried to remember how awful it had been for her the first time. The improvement from then had to be considerable in her eyes. For him, it had always been amazing.

Without really being aware of it, he was rubbing his erection across her sex. She stopped moving and looked at him as he gently nudged in a little way. He needed her so badly he was willing to risk everything.

"I'll pull out. I promise," he pleaded, surprised he was even asking this but his head was swimming around in a euphoric cloud. What surprised him more was Hermione was considering it. He knew enough to know that with even what they were doing right now, there was a possibility of things going wrong. And he knew that when it came down to it, he wasn't sure he'd have enough control. But he wanted this so badly.

"Harry . . . please," she said, pushing against him. He slid all the way out of her and ended up lying by her side, painfully erect against her hip. "We'll go into town tomorrow. We'll get something. We shouldn't . . . like that."

She sounded upset and he was sure it was with him and not at the situation. He should have never done what he did. He kissed her softly on her cheek and took her hand in his. "Love you, Hermione."

"I love you, too, but I won't let you get away with just anything," she said, turning towards him. He was absolutely dying for release now and he knew he was going to have to leave her.

"Hermione, I have to go to the bathroom or back to my room. I . . ."

"Do it here," she said and he sat up and looked at her. She was beautiful, her hair spread out across her pillow and her bare breasts lit by the scant bit of moonlight coming through the window.

"What?" he asked.

"Do it here. Come on, Harry. Do you think I'm daft? When we used to make out in the common room, do you really think I had no clue about you sneaking off to the bathroom before you went up to your room? It's not like you haven't seen me touch myself. This time, I want to watch you," she said, smiling at him.

"Er -- okay," he said. She propped herself up and he felt awkward with her focusing so intently on his hand and what he was doing. It was as if she was studying how he did this so she could do it next time. Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea.

He was close when he noticed her hands were doing nothing. He kicked the sheets the rest of the way off of her and she looked startled.

"Touch yourself," he whispered. "Come for me again. You can do it."

"I can't . . . I can't again so soon after that," she said but did as he said anyway. Her hand slid down her body, stroking herself. In a few minutes, he came in his hand, all wet and sticky and after watching him, she came again, gasping in surprise.

"I told you," he said, smiling at her.

"I should have never given you that damn book. It has made you smug, Harry Potter," she said as he continued smiling.

Harry wished he could stay with her all night but she had already told him that her father sometimes got up extremely early to read the paper before going into work. Her mother was taking a few days off, obviously not trusting them to not do what they just had just done.

He reached for a tissue from the box at the side of her bed and tried to clean himself up but he wasn't very successful. "I need to go," he said, putting on his glasses and searching for his bedclothes. Her room smelled of the two of them and he had no idea what she was going to do about that. He had to go to the bathroom and clean up his face and hands.

"I'll see you in the morning. After breakfast, we'll go into town and I promise that we'll take care of everything then, okay?" she said, pulling on her nightgown. She grabbed him and kissed him one last time before he got up to leave her. "Then you can come back tomorrow night and every night until you have to leave."

Harry smiled as he closed Hermione's door behind him. Crookshanks was there, looking up at him with big glowing eyes. The cat followed him into the bathroom, nipping at his ankles.

"Sorry, sport," Harry whispered to the cat. "You can have her all to yourself next week. This week, she's mine."

************

Harry woke up with a start, unable to figure out exactly where he was. He reached for his glasses but the night table wasn't where it should be. As if she could tell he was a little disoriented, Hedwig let out a soft 'hoot' from where she was perched in the corner but even though his owl was with him, this definitely wasn't his room at the Dursleys.

Then he remembered exactly where he was. He was at Hermione's house. It was the week of his birthday and he was spending it with Hermione. A huge smile spread across his face as he quickly got out of bed and pulled his robe over his night clothes.

It was then that images of what Hermione and he had done through the night came back to him and a warmth spread across his body. He looked in the mirror at his flushed face and tried to get his hair to stand up a little less. It was hopeless. At least in Hermione's house, the mirrors didn't feel the need to tell him that.

Before he could get out the door, Hedwig let out another hoot. "Yes, Hedwig, I'll bring you back a piece of toast," Harry told his owl before leaving the room. Hermione's door was open and she wasn't in her room. Her parents weren't in theirs, either.

He made his way down the stairs and to the kitchen where he found the family all sitting around the breakfast table laughing at something Hermione was reading to them out of the Daily Prophet. She looked up at Harry and her smile only grew wider.

"Good morning, Harry," Mr. Granger said, motioning for Harry to sit down in the chair next to Hermione. "Did you have a good night's rest? Any problem sleeping falling asleep in a strange place and all?"

"Oh, no. Not at all. I had a great night," Harry said, smiling back at Hermione.

Hermione blushed a brilliant shade of magenta as she hid her face behind the newspaper.

"What do you like to eat, dear? You can have whatever there is in the house," Mrs. Granger said and Harry cast a glance at Hermione. She now had several other shades of red and pink joining her face and he imagined she was blushing right up to the tip of her ears.

"Hermione, put down that paper. Always have to have your nose in some reading material. You have a guest and you should see to it that he gets what he wants," Mr. Granger said and Hermione dropped the paper and scurried from her chair before they could notice the smirk on her face or how flushed her cheeks were.

"Toast, Harry?" Hermione asked from the far side of the kitchen.

"Yes, thank you," Harry answered, smiling as she rolled her eyes.

Everything here was different than it was at the Weasleys, including breakfast. This was more like the Dursleys, only everybody liked each other. That, and Harry could have whatever he wanted for breakfast. He watched as Hermione went about making him several pieces of toast using the Muggle appliances they were both so familiar with. It's only then that he realized someday, they wouldn't have to live like this. They wouldn't be underage anymore and could live like the Weasleys.

"Oh, blast," Hermione said as the toast popped up, black.

"That's okay," Harry said and both of the elder Grangers wrinkled their noses at the smell.

"No, no, no. I'll get this right. If I can't even make you a piece of toast how can . . . oh, I see," she said, interrupting her own train of thought. "Who turned this setting up? Dad?"

"That is a rather tricky recipe, Hermione dear. But after you master toast, we'll work on boiling water next," Mr. Granger said, smiling at his daughter.

"At school, Hermione can make anything boil. We've done some rather tricky potions that involve boiling an ingredient to exactly the right temperature and if it goes one degree over . . . what a mess," Harry said, shaking his head at the memory from this past year. Her parents both stared at him, their mouths open. He thought maybe it would be best if he avoided discussing the dangerous aspects of potions class from that point on.

"Here," Hermione said, setting down a plate of absolutely perfect toast in front of Harry. "I know how to make toast. Without magic or the help of house elves, even."

"Of course you do," her father said, picking up Hermione's copy of the Daily Prophet. Harry imagined all the colors Uncle Vernon's face would turn if he ever looked through that paper and he sighed, wishing he had a family that accepted what he was. Without the paper, he had to rely on Ron and Hermione to let him know that the portrait problem at Hogwarts seemed to be permanent.

"What are your plans for today?" Mrs. Granger asked, looking over her cup of tea at Hermione.

"I don't know. What are your plans?" Hermione asked, trying to sound very innocent. Harry found himself enjoying getting to know what Hermione was like around her parents in her own house.

"Your father has to go into work this morning. Old Mrs. Crabtree cracked her . . . well, never mind. But he'll be working this morning and when he gets home, I'll go in this afternoon. I only have a few appointments," Mrs. Granger said, her eyes shifting from Hermione to Harry and then back again. Harry sensed that she trusted the two of them less today than she did yesterday.

"We're going to walk to town if that's okay with you," Hermione said and Mrs. Granger smiled, looking happy they would be out of the house and a long way away from any doors they could close.

"That will be nice. You can show Harry where you grew up and where you went to school," Mr. Granger said.

"Have you decided what you would like to do for your birthday, Harry?" Mrs. Granger asked.

"I want to cook dinner for him," Hermione said before he could get a chance to answer. All three of them turned their heads to look at her and then down at the plate of half nibbled toast in front of Harry. "I can do it. I've baked cakes before and I won't try anything too difficult. If I can brew up a potion at school, I can surely do this."

"How does that sound to you, Harry?" Mr. Granger asked cautiously. Harry looked at his girlfriend and realized that he could only answer one way.

"I would love it if you cooked dinner for my birthday," Harry said and Hermione beamed.

************

"Did you get them?" Hermione asked in a near whisper as Harry came around the corner.

"Yes," he said, looking behind him to figure out why Hermione was so paranoid.

"And the druggist didn't say anything?" she asked.

"Why would he?"

"I grew up here, Harry. Everyone knows me," she said in a matter of fact tone. "If he knew you were with me and you were buying those, it would raise certain questions that I'd rather not answer."

"This was certainly easier at Hogwarts," Harry said as Hermione grabbed the bag from him and shoved it in the totebag slung over her shoulder.

"I've been reading up on different spells and potions for . . . you know, especially ones that last longer than those I've used in the past. I should have looked into it before the term was over but I never dreamed you'd be allowed to come stay with me," she said, grabbing hold of his hand and then dropping it quickly.

"Oh, come on, Hermione," Harry said, pleading with her as he took her hand in his. "Who's going to see us?"

"I guess no . . ." Hermione started to say when they were interrupted by the sounds of a bicycle stopping behind them.

"So, what are you two lovebirds up to?" Both Harry and Hermione turned around, startled, and Hermione jerked her hand from Harry's. It was Drew and he was about a meter behind them.

"Nothing, Drew, and we're not 'lovebirds.' Harry is a friend from school," Hermione said but she didn't sound terribly convincing as far as Harry was concerned.

"Yes, that school you go to. What school is that, exactly?" Drew asked, narrowing his eyes at both of them. Harry didn't know exactly what to make of Drew. Hermione always made him sound pleasant yet he looked so sullen. Maybe he really liked Hermione a lot more than Harry allowed himself to imagine. It was serious enough that she did plan on going to bed with him.

"How many times have I told you it's just a small school that no one's ever heard of. Very small in fact. There's hardly anything to do there," Hermione answered.

"I think you found something to do," Drew said, his eyes focused only on Harry now. Harry knew there'd be no way he could win if the boy decided to pick a fight about this. At least not without some sort of magical interference, that is. He was no longer the small boy that Dudley's friends enjoyed pummeling but he certainly wasn't big enough to take on someone like Drew.

"Drew, let it be. You and I aren't together anymore and that's all there is to it. It shouldn't matter who I'm seeing now since we decided it just wasn't going to work between us," Hermione said, stepping closer to Drew and putting her hand on his arm. He looked down to where she was touching him, a wistful expression on his face.

"I'm sorry. I miss you, that's all," he said and Harry felt jealousy rush through him.

"Stop by my house before I return to school next month, okay?" she asked. He looked up at her with his big blue eyes and Harry swallowed hard to keep from saying anything.

"Okay. I will," he said, turning to give Harry a quick look. With that, he rode off on his bicycle.

"Hermione, what was that about?" Harry asked, wishing that his insides weren't all twisted up right now.

"He's just a friend, Harry," Hermione said, walking quickly in the direction of her house.

"A friend you were in love with at one time," he said, following her. She didn't say anything for a long time and that didn't do anything to help untwist his insides. "Hermione?"

She stopped so suddenly that he nearly ran into her. Turning to face him, her eyes were filled with something he couldn't quite comprehend. It was a lot of anger and something else . . . maybe sadness.

"I thought I was. I thought I loved him but I was absolutely clueless. I had no concept of what loving someone really meant. He was fun, Harry, and it was nice to have someone to be friends with last summer and I thought it was going to be more but then you happened . . . you happened and I realized that everything else and everyone else . . . none of it could ever compare to what I have with you. Don't you get that? Are you so completely convinced that no one could ever love you the most? Are you?" Hermione asked. Harry took a step back, trying to take in everything she just said.

"I . . . er . . . Hermione . . ." he mumbled and she reached out and took his hand in hers. He really didn't know what to say. A part of him was convinced that she couldn't possibly love him as much as she said she did while another part was desperate to believe anything.

And a tiny part of him, a part he liked to ignore, was convinced that the two of them were in way over their heads with this thing. He had no clue how he could be so confident at so many other things but when it came to her, he often felt as if he couldn't possibly deserve her love.

"You don't have to say anything. Just know that I love you, Harry. You and no one else. Can we not go through this again?" Hermione asked. Harry nodded his head as they started walking and she didn't let go of his hand until they got to her street.

***********

After waiting for what seemed like hours for her parents to fall asleep, they sat next to each other on the floor on the far side of her bed. In the moonlight, Hermione was carefully reading condom package, raising an eyebrow here and there.

"How do Muggles live like this?" she asked, tossing Harry the box. "I can't wait until we're no longer underage and I can do the things I do at school and . . . and we don't have to use those."

"It can't be that bad, Hermione," Harry said, opening the box and pulling out a square of foil. He was willing to endure this a few times if it meant they could have sex immediately. He figured that so far, he already had it better than any Muggle boy his age would have had it and this was only temporary.

"There are just so many things I'm ready for . . . apparating. I can't wait to learn to apparate. And finding out if any of us can transfigure into . . . something. And I'm ready for . . ."

"A shag with your boyfriend?" Harry interrupted. Hermione turned to him and smiled.

"Yes, I'm ready for that, too," she said. He tossed the box aside, careful to keep track of the foil package, and Hermione straddled his lap.

"So am I," Harry said, the feel of her rubbing against him through his thin pajama bottoms was enough to send a flash of hot desire through his body.

"When we can do magic anytime, there are spells I've heard about-- they're locked away in the restricted section -- that can make this even better," Hermione whispered into his ear between nibbling on it.

"How can it get better?" Harry asked, his heart thumping hard in his chest. He had wanted to be inside of her for so long now he wasn't sure how long he was going to be able to last.

"It could go on for days . . ." Hermione said right before her mouth descended on his. Her tongue gently plied his lips apart and then searched his mouth. He returned the kiss, pulling her to him as tightly as he could, while she continued to grind against his lap. His head was swimming with all the sensations and with the thought that he might not live if this went on for days but he'd sure like to try and find out.

He slid his hands up her nightgown, going to her breasts and cupping them. She pulled away from the kiss and took the garment off, tossing it aside. Like last night, her knickers were already gone before he even came to her room, and now she was naked on his lap. He dipped his head, his mouth replacing a hand over her breast and she sighed happily as his tongue danced across her skin.

He slid his other hand down her body and between her thighs, touching her until she moaned. She leaned back, pulling her breasts away from his mouth, as his fingers started to swirl against her. Her eyes were now dark pools of desire, huge without any light, and he stared into them, thinking he might fall in if he wasn't careful.

"I need you," she whispered, moving away long enough for him to strip out of his pajama bottoms and fumble around with the condom. His hand were shaking and in the dark, he couldn't tell which way it was supposed to unroll so he flipped it one way and then the other, hoping the answer would magically come to him.

"Hermione . . ." he pleaded, realizing magic wasn't going to come into play here anytime soon so Hermione would have to be the next best thing. She took it from him and gently unrolled it over his erection, making sure it was on just right. "How'd you learn that?"

"I read the box," she said with a shrug, climbing on his lap again. She held onto his shoulders as he eased in slowly, only stopping when she gasped.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"It's . . . it's been awhile and that thing is drier than . . . well, what you usually are," she said, leaning forward so her forehead was resting against his. He wrapped his arms around her, embracing her tightly, his eyes never leaving hers.

"We can wait until we're back at school. It's only another month," Harry said, trying to sound like he really meant it. Instead of saying anything, she slid the rest of the way down, taking all of him into her tight sex. Now he gasped but it was in pleasure.

"I don't want to wait another minute let alone another month. I'll get used to it," she said, making small movements over him. His hands went to her waist, holding on as she continued to move, helping her find a pace that was good for both of them.

There was no way he was going to be able to last long. Even after everything they did last night, he could feel it building up way too quickly and it wouldn't be long. Someday, he thought, they could use charms and potions that would make this last for days but right now he could use one that would make it last longer than three minutes.

Hermione pulled her head back and was biting her bottom lip hard. Maybe three minutes was going to be long enough for her. He didn't hold back and let it end then, feeling the spasms of pleasure pass through is body. She placed a hand on his cheek and gave him a quick kiss before slipping off and snuggling in his arms.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I didn't know it would be like that," he said, kissing the top of her head. He was trying hard not to focus on the condom that was sort of dangling there but Hermione was looking right at it.

"I suppose we have to dispose of that somehow," she said, leaving his arms and reaching for the box of tissues. He did away with it, dropping it and the wrapper into a pile of tissues, crumbling the whole mess up into a ball and putting it aside.

"We can wait until we go back to Hogwarts," he said, pulling her close again.

"But it will be your birthday tomorrow and I had everything all planned. I'll be okay, Harry. It can't be like that every time. Maybe if . . . you know . . .," she said sitting up and touching his lips with her fingers. "Maybe if you did that beforehand it wouldn't be so uncomfortable."

He kissed her fingertips and smiled. "Anything for you."

They stayed there on the floor until they heard Crookshanks pawing the door from the outside. He stopped after a few seconds and they both sat quietly, waiting to find out of the Grangers opened their door to find out what was going on. They didn't.

"You better get to bed. It's late," Hermione said. Even though she said the words, she didn't let go of him.

"Look at the time," Harry said and Hermione turned to glance at the clock by her bedside. She settled back down into his arms and sighed.

"Happy 17th Birthday, Harry," she said softly, her fingers wrapping around his. "I hope it's your best birthday ever."

"I think it just might be," he whispered back.

***********

To Be Continued . . .


	7. Chapter 7

From across the kitchen, Harry watched Hermione toss ingredients into the saute pan on the stove. She looked much like she did in potions class, carefully measuring out everything before adding it, leveling it all perfectly and stirring well. She dropped in another ingredient and flinched when something in the pan splattered her.

"Damn," she said, looking at the small burn on her arm.

"Are you okay?" he asked and she jumped at the sound of his voice.

"I'm fine. I'm not very good at this," she said, sounding a little frustrated. "And you aren't supposed to be watching me. You said you were going to take a nap."

"I couldn't sleep and I'd rather be in here with you," he said, walking towards her. "It looks like you're doing great."

"I want everything to be perfect," Hermione said, looking at the recipe one more time.

"You've been brewing potions for years now. How different could this be?" he asked, leaning over her shoulder and glancing at the recipe.

"People have to eat this," she said, reaching for the salt and adding a quick dash.

"I've swallowed a few of your potions over the years . . ."

"And they have to enjoy it," Hermione said, stopping him before he could remind her that he had indeed ingested some of the more unsavory concoctions she had made in the past.

"You really are doing fine. Here, let me help. I've had to cook many meals at the Dursleys," he said, putting his arms around her. He placed his hand over hers, guiding as she stirred.

"You shouldn't have to do this. I don't want you to think you have to," she said, both of them staring down into the pan, watching it as if they were going to be graded when it was done.

"Why are you so insistent on cooking then? You don't have to do this, either," he said, as they slowly stirred, moving against each other. She pushed back slightly, her body fitting perfectly against his.

"Where's my dad?" she asked nervously.

"When I checked, he was sleeping in the garden with your copy of the Daily Prophet," Harry answered. They didn't have to worry about Mrs. Granger for she was delayed at the office with a difficult patient.

"Good. If he saw us cooking like this, I'm certain he'd gather we were more than just friends."

"You didn't answer me. Why do you think you have to do this?" he asked. Hermione's head drooped forwards as if she were embarrassed by the answer. "Hermione?"

"I want to be good at this," she said.

"You're good at most everything you do," Harry said. There were very few things Hermione didn't excel at. It was true that there wasn't much chance she'd ever predict someone's future but that didn't really matter. Harry already had enough of that. He leaned in close enough to whisper in her ear. "And there are some things you're great at."

Even without seeing her face, he knew she was blushing. "I can barely handle a broom. That's something I can't do well," Hermione said with a shrug.

"I'll teach you. When we get back to Hogwarts, I'll take you out on the Quidditch pitch," Harry said and Hermione snorted. "What?"

"You'll never let me on your broom and you know it," she said.

"Ron has used it before so I don't see why not. You can ride my broom anytime . . . what?" he asked when she continued to make funny noises.

"Viktor once volunteered to show me some moves," Hermione said and Harry stopped stirring.

"I have better moves than Viktor," Harry said, not intending to sound as jealous as he just did over some guy Hermione hadn't seen in a long while.

"Of course you do," she said but he couldn't tell if she meant it or not. Harry took his hand from over top of hers and wrapped his arms around her waist. She sighed once before finally answering his question. "This is important to me because it's for you. That's the biggest reason. And because we'll be out of school in a year and I didn't want you to think all I was capable of doing was mixing up potions and Arithmancy."

"Why would you worry about me thinking that?" he asked.

"What are your plans for when we get out of school?" Hermione asked.

"I haven't really figured that out. I thought you'd go on with your studies and I'll do something. I'm not sure I can be an Auror. My exam marks weren't that good," he said. He had no clear idea about what he was supposed to do after his schooling ended but he always assumed that if he survived his last year at Hogwarts, it would have something to do with the Order trying to bring down Voldemort. Unless he was already gone by then. Harry had put off thinking about the prophesy for so long and he certainly didn't want to start thinking about it now that he was alone with Hermione.

"Will we . . . do you think we'll be together?" she asked and it was starting to dawn on him where all this was headed.

"I can't predict the future any better than you can," he said, rocking her in his arms now.

They both stood in silence and Harry knew that the past year had been fluke. Something had to have gotten in the way of anything Voldemort planned for him and it often scared him that the one big change in his life was his present relationship with Hermione. He couldn't even begin to fathom how that could be why they didn't come after him in the past year but it had to be it. And that scared him.

"If we're together, someone will have to do the cooking," she said and Harry laughed. "Why is that so funny?"

"Because I can't picture you living a life like Mrs. Weasley. I can't picture us as the Weasleys at all with a bunch of kids and you keeping your wand tucked in the pocket of your apron," Harry said but Hermione didn't see much humor in it.

"Sometimes I think you can't picture us living a life together at all," Hermione said and he let go of her. Dropping the spoon, she turned around, looking up at him. He didn't know what to say. "Sometimes I think you're sure you won't be alive to even try."

He pulled her back into a tight embrace, neither of them caring about dinner right at that moment. "I'd like to consider it . . . I think we could . . . we'll have to see but I'd like that," he finally said and she sighed.

"I'd like that, too."

"And don't worry. I can cook. Even without magic," he said and she laughed a little.

It was then that they heard the door slam and they jumped apart. Hermione turned around to face the stove and Harry stepped back further from her. Mr. Granger came into the kitchen, tossing the Daily Prophet onto the table. Walking over towards his daughter, he smiled brightly. Looking over Hermione's shoulder in the exact same place Harry was standing just a minute ago, he looked at the recipe.

"That smells wonderful! Much better than your toast. I think it might even smell better than most of the meals your mother cooks," Mr. Granger said. Harry couldn't help but feel a slight tug at his heart as Hermione beamed with pride over the compliment from her father.

*********

Harry was busy unwrapping his last few gifts. Ron's had just arrived a few minutes ago by owl all the way from Romania. He sent him a collection of pictures from Romania along with his gift and in one photo, Ron had his arm around his new girlfriend and they kept kissing each other.

In his letter, he went on and on about her and how she was visiting Romania from Italy with her parents while they studied dragons with Charlie. Her name was Tullia and she had long, dark curls and Harry could make out silver rings on all her fingers. They matched all the hoops hanging from her ears. She was quite different than most of the girls he had ever met before (or any that Ron had ever found attractive) and that didn't pass Hermione's notice.

"She's . . . she's very . . . here, would you like to open your next present?" Hermione asked, handing him another box and moving off the topic of Ron entirely.

"Thank you!" Harry said after he opened it. She had been giving him gifts all day but this was his favorite. It was the picture that had first given them away -- the one that Colin had taken and handed over to Ron months ago -- and Hermione had it framed.

"Whatever you do, don't let my parents see it," Hermione said, looking at the photo Harry held in his hands. The image of Hermione was leaning over and kissing his image quite intently at the moment and Harry wished that the real Hermione sitting next to him would do the same thing. Unfortunately, Mr. and Mrs. Granger were in the next room watching the telly.

"You're going to have to tell them eventually," Harry said and Hermione frowned.

"What exactly do you want me to tell them? I'm not sure where to start," Hermione said. In the other room, her father laughed boisterously at something and they both looked in that direction as if they were pondering the question.

"There are aspects of it I would leave out for now but I think . . .when you're ready . . . you'll have to tell them I'm a little more than a friend now."

"I don't want to tell them. They'll . . . ask questions," she said, wrinkling her nose up at the thought.

"It's not as if they don't like me, Hermione. Your mum even went and bought me more presents than the Dursleys ever have. Between her and Mrs. Weasley's birthday gifts, I have enough jumpers and socks to make it through this year of school without looking like a complete slouch. Somehow, though, I think you had something to do with this one," Harry said, looking down at the shirt he had changed into before dinner. It had been in a package he opened earlier in the day and it made his eyes appear a more vivid green than ever.

"That's a good color on you," Hermione mumbled.

Harry caught the slight sound of embarrassment in her voice. It was such a 'girlfriend' thing to do, picking out clothes for him. Just like cooking dinner. Hermione Granger, topnotch student and extraordinary witch, was embarrassed that she had a tiny domesticated side to her. It wasn't that many years ago when she used to 'mother' Ron and Harry and remind them off all the rules but this was different.

"We can tell them together. Or we can just let them see this," Harry said, holding up the picture once more. "It worked with Ron."

"No, I'll tell them but not tonight. I have plans for tonight," Hermione said, a sly smile creeping onto her face. Just the thought of what those plans might be made Harry's heart pound with anticipation and he found it growing rather warm in the room. Both her parents laughed at something this time and Hermione sighed. "But first we have to wait for them to go to bed. And I have to finish in the kitchen and wash some of the dinner dishes."

"I'll help you. If you wash, I'll dry," Harry said, carefully wrapping the picture back up and putting it into its box so no one could see it.

"Oh, Harry, it's your birthday. You don't have to do that," Hermione said.

"I don't mind . . ."

"Harry . . ."

"See, if I help you do the dishes, I can stand right next to you without them ever suspecting a thing," Harry said, his voice low so the Grangers couldn't hear him in the next room.

"Hmm. That rather sounds like something I'd think up," Hermione said, smiling.

"I've been studying up on this whole planning thing of yours. Besides, if we're going to be together for a long time, I better get used to doing the dishes unless you've changed your mind about house elves and we can get one," Harry, feigning pain when Hermione punched his arm playfully.

"I'm sure there are plenty of other magical ways to do the dishes. I'll have to look into it once we return to Hogwarts," Hermione said as he followed her into the kitchen. Harry let out a heavy sigh as he looked around at all the pots and pans she used to make dinner. The kitchen was now quite the disaster area and Harry tried to remember how Mrs. Weasley dealt with all the dishes after making meals for her large family. It was so much easier with magic. 

"You better do that," he said as they both surveyed the room together, trying to decide where to start. "But first, can you look up those things you talked about last night? That sounds far more interesting than any magical pot scrubbers."

*************

It was definitely moving. He wanted to reach out and touch it, to see how it could possibly be sparkling like that but something made him keep his hands down. One hand was wrapped around his wand. He was safe with his wand. He was in control with his wand.

Someone stepped in closer behind him, a familiar form, telling him to take another look. He was in the Granger's house, staring at a painting he had seen at school. It had been hanging in the room he and Hermione had once escaped to . . . how did it get here?

"Move in closer," the voice said but Harry couldn't move. He didn't want to move. His heart was racing and he was scared but he wasn't sure why. The voice demanded for him to touch it.

He had no more control over his hands then. He stepped closer and his wand clattered to the floor and he didn't bother to pick it up. Everything was sparkling now . . .

The sound of his door locking woke Harry from his dream and he sat up, startled, fumbling around for his glasses. Hermione's hand found his before he could put them on and she whispered, "Don't. You're okay. It's only me."

"What time is it?" he asked, trying to see the slightly blurry numbers on the clock.

"It's a little after eleven so it's still your birthday," she said, putting his glasses back on the bedside table.

"I'm so sorry I fell asleep. I was tired and I was having this odd dream," he said as she climbed under the covers with him, her one leg immediately wrapping around his own.

"An odd dream . . . how?" she asked, sounding rather concerned.

"Not like that. It was just strange," he answered. 

"Probably from having to dry all those pots and pans," she said, resting the palm of her hand over his heart. It was still beating wildly from his dream

"That's not the only thing only thing making me tired. You do realize that after tonight, this will be the most times you and I have been together in a row . . . if my first night here counts. Does it count?" he asked and she propped herself up to look at him, her hand now moving over his chest.

"Of course it counts. Oh, I could do this every night. It's going to be so wonderful when we're older and free to do what we want to do. We can have sex constantly," Hermione said. Harry didn't even get a chance to say that sounded great before she kissed him. Her tongue parted his lips almost immediately, both of them hungry for the other. She moved on top of him and his dream and all the dishes from earlier were forgotten as he felt her body slide against his.

Pulling away from the kiss, Hermione sat up, straddling his hips. In the darkness and without his glasses, he could barely make out her face but he could tell she was smiling down at him.

"What?" he asked, reaching up to touch her cheek and to run his fingertips over her lips.

"What would you like for your birthday?" she asked and he was a little confused.

"You gave me presents all day, Hermione. What more could there be?" he asked and she shook her head.

"Don't be daft. I meant . . . what would you like in bed?" she asked, leaning forwards so that her long hair tickled him. "Anything from the book you'd like to try?"

His mind ran through the pages and pages of sexual positions and things to do to one's lover he had read about but with her body moving against his like it was, he couldn't make a decision. The only thing he knew is that he wanted to be inside of her soon.

"You had said, that with the condom and all, that you would like for me to . . . make things less dry down there?" Harry asked and Hermione let out a tiny laugh.

"Do you talk that proper when you're with just the boys?" she asked, her body still moving slowly against his. "What do you they call it when you're all standing around the changing room in your Quidditch robes looking all manly?"

"First of all, there are more girls on the team than boys so if anyone is doing any talking, it's usually them and let me tell you . . . wow. I've learned a thing or two. Besides that, I don't talk about what we've done to anyone . . .boys or girls. As for my roommates, Ron would probably have some sort of seizure if I told him more than he already knows . . . Neville, too, I imagine . . . and there isn't anyone else really. Professor Lupin knows we're better friends than we were before but I haven't told him quite how far it has progressed. So you're the only one I ever discuss any of this with which is probably for the best since you're the one I'm shagging," Harry said, grabbing her and quickly flipping her over. She nearly let out a little yelp but managed to stifle it in time.

"Yes, I am. The only one," she said, wriggling her nightgown up to her waist.

"Yes, the only one," he said even though she already knew that.

"Where are the condoms?" she asked, her voice full of dread.

"On the table but don't worry about that yet," he said, moving slowly down her body. She pulled her gown the rest of the way off as soon as she could and tossed it aside. She was naked underneath him and his first stop on his way to his final destination was her breasts. He placed little kisses across each one before pulling a nipple into his mouth, his tongue circling and feeling it grow harder. Her fingers tangled into his hair, holding him there as she softly moaned in pleasure.

Moving further down, he ignored her protests as he pulled away from her breasts. His mouth moved down her stomach and over her belly button, leaving behind little kisses wherever he went. Finally, he slid between her parted thighs, hearing her gasp as his tongue touched just the right spot. She hadn't pulled her hands free from his hair and with them, she pushed him closer, her body thrusting up against his mouth.

His tongue flicked quickly against her clitoris and like he did the other night, he slipped his fingers inside of her, feeling how tight and hot she was. There were things he had read about . . . other things he could do to her . . . but judging from Hermione's moans, he was doing the right thing now. It was then, quite by accident, he pressed up with his fingers and her hands flew from his hair to clutch the bedsheets.

"Yes . . . don't stop . . . " she said, nearly purring the words, and he didn't stop but instead did everything a little faster and a little harder. Now she was grinding against him, continuing to beg for more. She was wet against his face and he knew it wouldn't be like last night. They rushed into that. This would be so much better.

He sucked and gently bit at her until it was enough for her to come, which she did harder then he ever remembered her doing before. Waves of pleasure danced over her body for a long time and he pulled back to watch. Slowly, he crawled back up her body, leaving tons of kisses along the way.

After he settled between her thighs, she pushed his pajama bottoms down as far as she could and he kicked them the rest of the way off, losing them in the sheets. Before he could even fathom what was happening, her hand moved between their bodies, guiding him to her sex.

"Hermione . . ."

"I've counted and calculated and have it all worked out. It will be okay if you pull out in time," she said and as he eased into her. Her eyes closed and she sighed and there was nothing more that he wanted than to believe her.

As Hermione wrapped her legs high around his waist, allowing him to sink in impossibly deep, Harry did some more calculations of his own. Nine months and they'd still be in school. They'd nearly be finished with their final year but not quite. Not quite but close enough. Yes, close enough.

Besides, he still had plenty of money in the bank and just because he usually had no clue as to what he was going to do after school, there were plenty of things that he could do. Things like professional Quidditch where he'd have plenty of money. Teams already wanted him and if need be, that's what he would do . . .

None of that really mattered anyway. He had enough control and could stop in time. From under him, Hermione was matching him thrust for thrust and when she opened her eyes to stare up at him, his heart started to pound. She had never before looked at him with so much . . . need . . . trust . . . longing. He wasn't sure how to describe it but he knew was he didn't want her to ever not need him.

Her fingers clutched his arms, her nails digging into his skin causing one more sensation to swirl around his brain. She let go, her hands now traveling slowly down his back, drawing little circles as they moved downwards. The room was hot, their bodies sticking together whenever he pulled away even with the sheets and blankets now kicked off the bed. His hair was damp and kept falling into his eyes and he wished she'd push it out of the way.

Hermione was so responsive as compared to the night before and that combined with the sound she made every time he pushed into her was . . . it was way too much. Too much. Too soon. He couldn't stop it. He tried to pull out but wasn't sure if he made it in time. Gasping for air, he felt all his muscles spasm as he came hard, not able to move any further away from her. It wasn't long before all the cobwebs began to clear from his brain and he realized that Hermione was completely still underneath him.

He moved away, knowing it was too late to do anything about it. Rolling over on his back, he let out a heavy sigh, covering his eyes with his arm so he wouldn't have to face her.

"We shouldn't have done that."

"No, we shouldn't have but it will be okay," she said again, not sounding as sure as she did before. She moved away from him long enough to cover them both up with the blankets. "You pulled out in time, right? Right, Harry?"

"Even if I didn't . . . it will be okay. We'll be okay. I've got enough money to take care of us and if I play Quidditch, you can continue on with school and . . . oh, bloody hell! Why am I worrying already?" he asked and she let out a short laugh.

"Maybe because deep down inside, it's something we both want," she said and he pulled his arm away to look at her. "You want the family you never had and I want . . . you."

"If nothing happens, I think that it would be best if we wait until we're out of school before we make such major decisions, don't you?" he asked and she nodded. Hermione snuggled in close as he wrapped her up in his arms. "You have years of education ahead of you, Hermione, and I don't know what's ahead of me. I don't want to ruin your life."

"You're right . . . it was a foolish thing to do. But you could never ruin my life, Harry, because everything we have done, we've done together. Besides, I'm not worried," she said more confidently. He wouldn't be worried either except things always happened to him.

"If something does happen, at least it will be a birthday to remember," Harry said with a sigh.

"Please don't let this ruin the rest of our time together," she said, sliding one of her hands up and placing it on his cheek. "It's short enough as it is. One more day and then I have to wait a month to see you. I'm not sure I'll be able to stand it."

"How do you think I feel? I have to go back to the Dursleys. You don't know how much it means to me that your parents let me stay here even for a few days. You can't even begin to imagine how bad it is there. I see your life and how you got to grow up and it makes me hate them even more," Harry said sadly.

"You won't have to go back again after this. School will be over next year and you won't have to ever spend another summer there," Hermione said and the thought made Harry smile. They both stayed wrapped up like that for quite a while until finally Hermione slipped out of his arms and pulled her nightgown back on.

"I wish you could stay here in bed with me tonight," he said, knowing that wasn't anymore possible tonight than it was any other night.

"We have a lot to do tomorrow so you need to get some rest," said Hermione, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"What do we have to do tomorrow?"

"You and I are going to the library in town so I can do research for my one paper. I need to find out about Muggles and their . . ." she said and Harry couldn't help smiling. "What?"

"Hermione, one of these days I'm going to figure out why you of all people have to leave your Muggle home to go to the Muggle library to find out anything about Muggles," he said and she crossed her arms over her chest and gave him the same look she had given him for years whenever he made a comment about her schoolwork.

"Because I want it to be perfect. Besides, this way you can work on your assignments without worrying about your uncle catching you," she said, leaning in to kiss him goodnight. He grabbed one of her hands and held it tight.

"I love you," he whispered when she moved away.

"We'll see if you still feel that way after I make you finish your charms homework," she said, slowing getting up from the bed, her hand slipping from his.

"I will," he said. He missed her touch already.

"Happy birthday," she said for the hundredth time that day. "I hope it was great."

Hermione slipped out the door, pulling it shut behind her. He grabbed the pillow she had been resting on and hugged it tight, breathing in the scent of her that still lingered on it.

"Oh, it was great," he mumbled to himself as he struggled to fall back to sleep.

******************

Hours passed by slowly and he couldn't stop tossing and turning in his bed. He was trying not to worry about things he couldn't change. There were too many of those things in his life already without worrying about what happened between Hermione and him tonight. 

He was more concerned about was why either of them had let it happen. They weren't ready for such things. Hermione had too much to do with her life that wouldn't necessarily involve him. She was so clever and good at what she did and he didn't want to tie her down to something she thought she wanted during a momentary lapse of good judgment. That's all it was. A momentary lapse. Just the two of them being stupid teenagers. No one should have to pay forever for that, right?

Harry wondered when his parents knew they were going to be together for the rest of their lives, however long that might be? How did they decide that they were ready to get married and have a baby? They looked so young in the pictures. He needed to ask Remus Lupin when he got the chance. With all he had learned about his parents in the last few years, there was still so much he wished he knew. He also decided it was time to tell his godfather more about his relationship with Hermione if only to protect her. If something happened, at least someone would have a clue as to why. 

He loved Hermione and there was no denying that but could this last forever? Did she even really want it to or did she get caught up with him being here and playing house for a few days? He thought he knew how she felt but everything could change so quickly. 

Pulling a pillow over his head, he counted the many ways their relationship could come to an abrupt end. Her parents could find out and ban them from ever seeing each other again -- or worse. Or the Dursleys could find out he was having sex with anyone and lock him up in the cupboard. Professor McGonagall would certainly feel that he was ruining Hermione's chances at a brilliant career and probably expel him the first chance she got.

Then there was the big one -- he could quite possibly get killed any day now and never see it coming. That would definitely slow down the relationship. Harry wasn't even sure it would necessarily be Voldemort bringing about his demise. Drew Rowntree would probably like to see him dead, too.

He tossed around more, throwing the covers off and then pulling them back on again. Hedwig hooted softly from the corner and Harry lifted his head to look at his owl who was focusing in on him with her big, bright eyes. He had completely forgotten she was there earlier when they were having sex. How embarrassing. He should have sent her off for the night but Hermione coming to his room wasn't really in the plans. A lot of things weren't in his plans. 

His owl looked restlessly towards the window and Harry sat up, turning on the light at the side of the bed. "Would you like some exercise?" he asked, digging his pajama bottoms from out of the blankets and tugging them back on. "I really should write Professor Lupin and let him know where I am and what I've been doing."

Hedwig hooted again, this time with indignation. 

"No . . . I don't think I should tell him about that in a letter. You weren't supposed to see that and I apologize. It won't happen again," said Harry, getting up to dig through his bag, looking for his writing supplies. He sat down on the edge of the bed and began his letter to Professor Lupin. Since Sirius died, he had grown a little closer to Lupin but it still wasn't the same. Most of the effort was put forth by Lupin and not Harry and sometimes he got tired of him trying so hard to replace someone he could not. 

Dear Professor Lupin -

I wanted to let you know that I have been away at the Granger's house (Hermione's parents) over my birthday. It was nice to get away from the Dursleys and I can't wait until next summer when I no longer will have to return there. I would like to ask you a few things concerning my parents once I get back to Hogwarts. Nothing too important -- just a few questions I've been thinking about. Also, I've had a few unusual dreams lately but since my scar has remained pain free, I'm certain it's nothing to worry about. I think Hermione's Muggle ex-boyfriend is a bigger threat than anyone else. I'm positive he hates me. If you hear about some boy named Andrew Rowntree on the run from the law, you'll know why. 

Hope you are well,

Harry

He sealed up the letter in an envelope and gave it to Hedwig who looked all too happy to get out of this room. He opened up the window, reminded her that he was returning to the Dursleys soon and then watched his owl take flight, heading off to wherever Professor Lupin might be this time. Hedwig never had trouble finding him no matter where he was. 

After putting away his supplies, he climbed back into his bed, hoping that he would eventually drift off to sleep. 

******************

Hearing the latch on the door click shut, Harry wiped the water out of his eyes and pulled back the shower curtain to see what was going on. He found Hermione standing there, a coy look on her face. He had been enjoying his showers at the Granger's immensely since all they had at the Dursley's was some old tub that Aunt Petunia demanded she must have. It was small and he often wondered how Dudley, or Uncle Vernon for that matter, fit into it at all but that image flitting around his head just hurt too much to focus on for long.

"I did lock that, didn't I?" Harry asked, pushing his wet hair off of his face and away from his eyes. He was very tired this morning so there was a good chance he didn't remember to lock it at all.

"Yes."

"You didn't . . . you didn't use magic to open it, did you?" he asked, squinting and looking around for her wand. She made a clucking noise with her tongue and dropped her bathrobe to the floor.

"Do you see my wand anywhere?" she asked, stepping into the shower spray with him.

"No . . . er . . . "

"Is it possible that I know how to pick the locks in my own house?" she asked.

"Quite possible . . . what are you doing?" he asked.

"Taking a shower," she answered as if it should have been quite obvious what she was doing which he guessed it was.

"I meant . . . where are your parents?" he asked, a lump rising to his throat as she took the bar of soap and began lathering him up.

"Mum has been at work since early this morning and Dad just got called in for an emergency. He shouldn't be home for hours," Hermione answered, turning them around so she was now standing under the water. He looked down at a soapy hand wrapped around his growing erection and at what she was doing to him. It didn't take long until he was completely hard under her slick touch and she put the bar of soap away without stopping.

"I've thought about it a lot and we can't do it again like last night . . . once was bad enough. I mean, it was good but . . . ohh . . ." he said with a sigh, determined to stick with that decision no matter what. If her parents were gone, they could go to his room and get a condom. They could do whatever they wanted.

"Don't worry . . . I've been thinking, too . . ."

"Hermione . . ."

"I said don't worry. I have other plans for you."

With that, she stepped to the side and the water rinsed the soap from his body. She gave him a little push backwards out of the direct spray of the water and before he could say a word, she sank down to her knees. She looked up at him one last time, little droplets of water hanging from her eyelashes, before taking him into her mouth.

His hands flew out to the slippery tile wall behind him to hold himself up and he moaned loudly as she wrapped her lips around him. Her tongue flicking against the tip and it was such an amazing feeling that he couldn't keep his eyes off of her. When he was sure his legs wouldn't give out, he moved a hand away from the wall and tangled his fingers into her wet hair.

"That really is amazing," he said and she continued to slide her mouth over him, her tongue continually moving, her hand holding tightly to the base. He closed his eyes and let the sensation of her mouth and the hot water and the steam folding in around them wash over him. It didn't take long and his legs began to buckle underneath him and he had to hold onto the wall again. She began to move faster and he forced his eyes open to watch her. He could feel everything tighten inside of him and he knew that it wouldn't take much more . . .

Right then, Hermione turned her eyes up towards him and that, as always, was enough. He tried to pull completely away at the last second but just like last night, he couldn't. He started to come and she moved away, spitting out what was already in her mouth. The rest ended up on her face and in his hands as he tried to cover himself.

"Sorry . . ."

"Sorry . . ."

They said it at the same time and ended up laughing. He helped her up and she rinsed out her mouth with the shower water. He rinsed off, too, and they stood there under the water, both with a silly grins.

"Want me to wash your hair?" Harry asked and Hermione gave him a look of doubt that he could do it right.

"You won't get too much soap in my eyes, will you?" she asked and that brought back horrible memories of when he was small and Aunt Petunia used to carelessly bathe him, dumping water over his head without concern where the soap might end up. He used to cry and scream and that just made her more impatient about the whole thing. She never did that to Dudley. Aunt Petunia always had Dudley hold a washcloth over his eyes as she gently poured the water over his soapy hair, all the while telling him how much he looked like a baby angel.

"No, I won't let that happen," he said, reaching for the washcloth hanging behind her. "Hold this over your eyes. Now tip your head back . . ."

He moved around her, figured out which one was her shampoo (he knew the scent of it quite well) and made a nice lather. She moaned softly, sounding quite content as he massaged her scalp and ran his fingers carefully through her long hair, untangling it as he went.

He moved her further into the water, tilting her head just right so the water would rinse out the soap without getting any in her eyes. When it was done, she pulled the washcloth away and turned to him.

"How was that?" he asked, wiping a tiny bit of soap off of her cheek with the edge of his thumb.

"That was very nice. You're going to make an incredible father someday. You'll be in charge of bath time," she said, her hand going up to ruffle his unruly wet hair. She must have noticed the look on his face because she quickly added, "But we won't have to worry about that for a very long time."

"Or some time next April," he said. She didn't say anything about that but instead wiggled around him and turned off the water. It was beginning to grow cold anyway.

She handed him a towel and then grabbed her own, drying off before stepping out of the shower and pulling on her robe. Harry wrapped the towel around his waist and just stood there, watching her eyes slowly travel over him. "We really should get to the library."

"We really should. How long until your parents get home?" he asked, feeling a twinge in his groin just from her stare. It was one of those times he was quite thankful he was so young.

"A couple of hours, I hope. How long until you can . . . you know?" she asked, motioning towards his towel.

"Not long," he said, glancing down. No, judging from the way things looked now, she wouldn't have to wait long at all.

"Good," she said, opening the door and checking the hallway. The only thing out there was Crookshanks, who meowed at her and looked at Harry with narrowed, unhappy cat eyes. Hermione turned around, grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him towards her bedroom. He barely had time to grab his glasses and shove them on his nose.

"What about protection? Everything is hidden in my room," he said rather breathlessly as she pushed him into her room with a gentle shove.

"I'm way ahead of you. I already got them so this time, we have nothing to worry about. Nothing at all," Hermione said, closing her door and locking it before she dropped her robe to the floor. Harry watched her walk across the room and climb into her bed, holding the blankets up for him.

"Are you waiting for a proper invitation?" she asked.

"No . . .er . . . I was just looking at you. You're so pretty," he said, cocking his head to the side as his eyes wandered over her body. Hermione blushed and put the blankets back down.

"You're not so bad yourself. Now please come over here before my parents get home and we have to somehow explain this," she said. He did as he was told, dropping his towel on her floor along the way. Allowing him under the blankets, she slid over, giving him room.

"Is that --" but before he could get his sentence out, she was kissing him. Her tongue moved past his lips and darted around his mouth. He returned the kiss, his hands exploring her body, slowly moving towards her breasts.

"I haven't kissed you yet today," she said, pulling away for air.

"No, not in a traditional way," he said and she blushed.

"Did you like it?" she asked.

"Which part? The part where you broke into the bath or the part where you went --"

"All of it," she said.

"You have to ask?" With that, he took her hand in his and moved it down to where he was growing terribly hard again already. She cocked an eyebrow before she wrapped her hand around him, stroking him until he had to pull away. "Be careful. I'm not sure if I can do this three times in an hour."

"Someday, we'll have to find out," Hermione said, rolling over to get the box of condoms from her table. She took one out and was ready to tear it open when Harry stopped her.

"I'll do it," he said, taking it from her hand and opening it. He kicked the blankets away so he could see what he was doing and she watched.

"When did you figure that out?" Hermione asked as he unrolled the condom down over his erection properly.

"Last night . . . alone in my room before you came in. I wanted to be ready and know how," he said, blushing a little about the fact that he had to use one to figure it out while all she had to do was read the box.

They turned to face each other and she put her leg over his hip. Her hand went between them as she guided him and he pushed in slowly, watching her face to see if he was hurting her at all.

"This isn't so bad," she said as he pushed all the way in. "Just takes a little getting used to. That's all. I was afraid maybe I was allergic to the things."

"It's not bad at all," he somehow managed to say even though his words sounded slightly strangled. Everything slowed down around him as his brain got lost in the sensation of Hermione beside him and around him. He had to remind himself that he needed to touch her and make it feel just as good for her as it did for him. She sucked in a quick breath of air when he touched her and released it as a long sigh.

Harry didn't know if it was because this was the first time they had ever truly been alone (without even the possibility of a ghost catching them) since they first had done this, but this time Hermione was louder than she had ever been before. She moaned in pleasure as he moved inside of her and cried out his name when he shifted them so he was on his knees with her legs pressed towards her. Her fingers were digging into the sheets, clutching at them.

"Do you like it like this?" he asked and she answered with a moan. He was slamming into her so hard now that her headboard was hitting the wall. She put a hand up to still it but before she could, he grabbed her hand and pulled them down. She fell silent for just a moment and then touched herself like he wanted her to. It wasn't long before she was crying out all sorts of nonsense punctuated occasionally with his name.

They had only done it this rough once before, back at school, but they had been angry at each other that time. This was so much better now.

"Close . . . I'm so close. Oh . . . yeah, Harry . . . move faster," she said and he complied willingly. Her fingers were moving faster, too, and it wasn't long before she was writhing in pleasure and the sounds she made . . . they were almost enough . . . they would have been enough if she didn't do that to him in the shower. He watched as she stopped moving and smiled up at him.

"Was that good?" he managed to ask but she didn't answer his question. 

"Are you close?" she asked instead as he kept up his pace, hoping he wasn't hurting her at all. He must not have been, because she moved her legs around until they were over his shoulders and he was in deeper than he could have imagined. He thrust into her a few more times before she clutched all her inner muscles tightly around him and it was more than enough. He was more than close. He was there.

She pulled her legs down and he fell against her, unable to catch his breath. She held him tight and he willed his racing heart to slow down because at this rate, it felt like it might burst. Soon, they both were breathing somewhat normally and he pushed up to look at Hermione.

They had still been wet from the shower when they got into bed but now they were both covered with sweat and his fringe kept falling into his eyes and her hair was a tangled mess.

"We need another bath," she said, shoving the hair out of his eyes.

"I'm afraid if we do that together, we'll just end up here again," he said and she raised an eyebrow at him.

"I thought you said you weren't up to three times?" she asked, smirking at him.

"No, not right at this moment," he said, reaching between them and holding onto the condom as he pulled out. He really didn't want any more 'accidents' to happen during this visit. "But I promise you by tonight, I'll be ready."

She turned her head towards the window and sighed. "I can't believe you have to leave soon."

He reached out and touched her cheek and she turned back to look at him. "We'll be back at school in just a few weeks. With this time together, I think I'll be able to bear life a little longer at the Dursleys. You've given me plenty to, um, think about."

"And I can start planning for when we see each other again. That will give me something to do," Hermione said, pulling him down for a long, lingering kiss. When they parted she gave him a gentle push and he rolled off of her. "But now, we have to get to the library. I really do have to study, Harry."

She rose from the bed and began to find her clothes, stopping for a moment to gasp at the sight of her hair in the mirror. Harry didn't care. He thought she looked wonderful and wished they were done with the library already so they could be back here together in her bed.

**************

The Muggle library wasn't much more exciting than the one at Hogwarts. Hermione sat across the table, a stack of books piled up on either side of her. She occasionally looked up and smiled at Harry but most of her time was spent scribbling notes about what she discovered in the books.

Harry was still mystified at how she could possibly need a book to explain Muggles or even why, since she dropped Muggle studies years ago, but he knew Hermione well enough to let her do it her own way. She shut a book on air travel and put it aside as she picked one up on electricity.

"Why don't you work on your homework?" she whispered and Harry shrugged.

"I'd rather watch you," he said and she blushed, placing the large book in front of her face. "What? You're suddenly embarrassed to have me watch you? You didn't seem to mind me watching you earlier . . . ouch! What did you have to go and do that for!"

She kicked his leg under the table before he could go further. He moved his chair back and pretended to go about attending to his wounded shin.

"Study something," she said from behind her book. "The sooner you stop bothering me, the sooner I can finish and we can get out of here."

Harry doubted that she would really be done anytime soon. He picked up one of the textbooks Hermione had lent him, opened it and hid the cover from anyone's prying eyes. No need to let the whole town know that he was studying charms. Or at least pretending to study charms.

He couldn't focus on the words before him and Hermione was beginning to look quite irritated at all the shuffling around he was doing. Closing the book, he stood up and pushed in his chair.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked and Harry looked around the small library.

"I don't know. I just want get up and stretch a bit. Maybe take a look around . . ."

"And avoid your homework?"

"Yes, and avoid my homework. I'll be back in a few minutes and I promise I'll work on it then," he said and Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

Harry left her reading her books (and looking quite happy to be doing so) as he began to wander around the stacks. It wasn't a very big library and most of the people sitting about reading books were rather elderly. A group of people about his age were huddled around a table, the girls giggling about something while the boys were trying hard to look cool. They all turned to look at him and Harry quickly brushed his bangs over his scar before he remembered he didn't have to. They would have no clue who he was. They might know Hermione but he doubted it. They didn't look like they spent the entire summer with their noses pressed in books.

He walked past them toward a small room at the back of the library and the girls all whispered something and started giggling again. Harry slipped out of their view and went about looking around the room. Books were haphazardly stacked everywhere, most of them so old their bindings were falling off. Obviously, they didn't have Madam Pince working here, making sure everything was repaired and in good order. Of course, they also didn't have magic to help repair them.

Harry also noticed that this seemed to be the room for discarded artwork. It reminded him of the one room at Hogwarts where he and Hermione would meet secretly except none of the people in these paintings ever moved and the statues weren't of old men dressed in robes with pointy hats. Instead, they were some sort of abstract thing probably done by some local artist years and years ago. Perhaps that's why they were relegated to the back room.

One painting did capture his attention. It seemed so familiar and he walked towards it, wondering where he might have seen it before. There was so much art at Hogwarts but none of those paintings would ever be hanging in a Muggle library. But still . . . he was sure he had seen it or at least something like it before. Stepping closer, he was quite sure he saw something on the canvas flutter. Or maybe spark. That couldn't be possible because even the ones at Hogwarts stopped moving before the end of the term and no one had figured out how to fix them.

"Isn't it nice?" someone asked from behind him and he turned around quickly to find Drew standing at the door.

"Oh, it's you," Harry said before turning around to face the painting again. He would rather look at that than at Hermione's ex-boyfriend.

"My mum painted that just a few years ago and donated it to the library recently. They obviously don't like it much," Drew just said and Harry nodded. He wasn't sure what to say. The painting wasn't exactly something one would compliment. It was a sea of browns and golds and had no real . . . point.

"It's . . . it's interesting," Harry managed to stammer, hoping that Drew wouldn't want to discuss it further and would just go away. A few seconds passed and Harry realized he wasn't going anywhere.

"She painted a few others. They're all around town and some are even in other parts of the country. I think the Grangers even have one of her paintings in their house . . . since Hermione wouldn't accept it as a gift when I sent it to her . . . she tried to send it back right away but her mum decided to keep it instead. Unfortunately, Hermione never did invite me in while you were there. Most aren't stuck in some back room like this one. Of course, having it here makes it easier since you and I are technically alone," Drew said and now Harry was quite puzzled.

"Easier to do what?" he asked.

"It wasn't supposed to happen the way it did," Drew said instead of answering Harry's question. "You got in the way of all the plans."

"What plans?" Harry asked, not sure exactly what was going on. He did get in the way of Drew and Hermione being together but that wasn't his fault. It just happened.

"I was supposed to meet Hermione. I was to make her to like me early last summer but it took her the whole summer to even notice me considering she always was reading a book or scribbling out notes. I was to talk her into meeting you last summer. We were supposed to become friends a long time before now. . . "

"I wouldn't say we're friends now . . ." Harry interrupted but Drew kept going on.

"Instead, the two of you somehow ended up together and all the plans had to be delayed. Delayed until today, that is. I have never felt luckier than I did watching the two of you come into the library together," Drew said, coming closer. Harry was certain that he was right behind him. He could feel anger rolling off of him and he knew Drew was trying hard to fight it.

"And what was supposed to happen then? What's supposed to happen now?" Harry asked, taking a step forward and away from Drew. He was now so close to the painting that he could see the small and careful brush strokes that went into making it. He also noticed that it wasn't quite the same shade of brown and gold that it was when he first looked at it. It was looking more like the painting in the empty room at Hogwarts. They were nearly identical now.

"It was the least I could do, considering I turned out to be a Squib and not a world famous wizard like yourself," Drew said and Harry froze.

How could Drew know about what he was? And he was a Squib . . . making Drew's parents wizards? He didn't meet Hermione by accident? What was the least he could do? So many questions were flying around Harry's brain and he didn't know what was happening.

"Drew, I don't know what you know about me or how you found out but I didn't mean to come between you and Hermione. . ."

"This really has nothing to do with that," Drew said from so close behind him that Harry could feel his breath close to his ear. "She was just a way to get to you."

"I'm here now. What do you want from me?" Harry asked. Something inside him was whispering that he should turn around and run out of here but he needed to know more. He had to find out if any of this involved Hermione and if she was in danger.

"Move closer," Drew said and Harry instinctively reached for his wand. It wasn't with him or at least not on him. It was in his book bag that was sitting at Hermione's table. He thought that would be close enough if something happened. He had no plans of wandering into Hermione's ex-boyfriend or of having him turn out to be anything more than that. Drew noticed Harry patting down his jacket and smiled. "You don't have it with you? This will be easier than I thought."

"I'm not moving any closer to that thing until you tell me what's going on," Harry demanded.

"My mum is not only a brilliant artist but also an amazing witch. She spent much of her time at Hogwarts studying their extensive art collection and what exactly made them tick," Drew said, stepping even closer to Harry, forcing him to move closer to the painting.

Harry tried to remember if that if in all his years at Hogwarts he had ever heard of the name Rowntree before but he was drawing a blank. Perhaps his father went somewhere else. He didn't know of all of the schools of witchcraft and wizardry there were in the world so it was quite possible he could have gone anywhere.

"So, she's the one responsible for what happened to the paintings at Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

"Not entirely," Drew said. Harry was trying to listen and devise a way to get past Drew and back to Hermione. Every direction he moved in, Drew was right there with him. He knew he was capable of doing things without his wand but he didn't have that much control over it and there was that whole underage . . . wait. He was no longer underage. No one could ever get him on that again.

If it came right down to it, he'd just scream. This place was so small that everyone would come running. 

"Then who is?" Harry would keep asking questions so he could think of something or until Hermione would come looking for him. Damn her and her studies. It could be hours before she would even notice he was gone.

"My father was always fascinated with the dark arts. Having lived in Australia, he was always disappointed that he was so far away from the rise of the Dark Lord all those years ago but he's here for his return to greatness. The only thing he was ever more disappointed in . . . was me," said Drew solemnly. Harry struggled to remember every word he ever heard Hermione mention about Drew when he was her boyfriend but most of those conversations were only shared with Ginny. After a certain point, he didn't want to hear them. 

"I'm sure that's not true," Harry said, trying to say anything. 

"Do you know what it's like to have people hate what you are? Hate you for something you can't fix or that you have no control over?" Drew asked. 

"Yes," Harry answered truthfully. 

"Do you know what it's like when it's your own father? Of course not. Your parents loved you so much they were willing to die for you." 

"Drew, listen, I'm really sorry that you feel . . . "

"But now I have the chance to redeem myself in his eyes. It has taken me a year and my day has finally come. I'm going to be the one to ensnare Harry Potter. My mother and I have spent so long devising this plan in the hopes of making it work just right. Over this past year, we've had a few problems but I think they're solved now. We just had to silence all those other people running around the portraits before any of them could open their gobs," Drew said.

"You turned off the portraits? How?" Harry asked, coming up with more questions. Drew was like most of them that aspired to be evil. They liked to talk about it instead of just do it and keep quiet.

"Haven't you been listening? I can't do a thing. All I could do is get you in the right place at the right time and I've done that."

"I think you're making a big mistake. I do know what it's like to have people hate you for what you are. I know it very well and I think . . . er . . . well, Hermione has always spoken well of you and she really likes you. She's a powerful and clever witch, Drew, and you don't want to cross paths with her," Harry said, saying Hermione's name louder than the rest of his words. Too bad his clever witch of a girlfriend couldn't get her nose out of a book long enough to come in here. "Hermione would be very angry . . ."

"That's enough of that!" Drew said, an quick flash of rage crossing his face. "Soon, everyone will know my name, not yours. My father will be rewarded by the Dark Lord for finally ridding the world of you and he will be pleased with me. All you have to do is move closer . . ."

Harry didn't get a chance to step back willingly. As soon as he opened his mouth to cry out for Hermione, Drew shoved him into the painting behind him. Drew had a pained look on his face and his hand crackled with an unnatural green energy that Harry knew the Squib boy couldn't have produced himself. It had to have come from him but it didn't matter. It was too late. 

There was a strange tug, and it wasn't unlike using a portkey. He thought at first that was perhaps what the picture was and he panicked, knowing what happened the last time he had been sent somewhere against his will by a portkey. He had just finished calling out Hermione's name when he realized that it wasn't a portkey at all. No, he had nothing in his hands when he hit the ground. It took him a moment to adjust as he tried to stand up but he kept falling down. Whatever was under him was soft and he wasn't sure what was going on. 

All he was certain of was that he was alone now and surrounded by blinding white light.

*************

To Be Continued . . .


	8. Chapter 8

An unexpected tap on her shoulder caused Hermione to nearly jump out of her seat. She had been so involved in her studies that she didn't hear anyone coming. Expecting to find Harry, ready to go home for the day or perhaps Mrs. Sterling letting her know they had found the book she had been looking for all afternoon, she was surprised to find her mother standing beside her.

"Mum! What time is it?" Hermione asked, noticing that the library was almost empty and the light from the nearest window was fading quickly. 

"It's almost time for them to close for the day. I called home and when Dad said you weren't there, I assumed the two of you would still be here. I thought perhaps you would like a lift home," Mrs. Granger said, standing up and looking around. "Where's Harry?"

"I -- er -- I don't really know. He went off to take a look around a while ago," said Hermione, looking at her watch. A while ago was actually closer to an hour ago. Hermione glanced around and couldn't imagine where he would have gone off to in this small place and she doubted he would have left the building without telling her. He didn't know his way around the town that well. "I'll go look for him. Stay here with my books."

Hermione walked up and down the stacks, not allowing that idea that something could be wrong to fully form in her brain. He's here somewhere, she kept telling herself over and over as she began to run out of stacks to search. Maybe he was playing a prank on her. That had to be it. When she finally found him, she was going to tell him off. 

He wasn't anywhere in the main part of the library and Hermione returned to the table. "Maybe he's in the loo," whispered Mrs. Granger, adding a reassuring smile to let Hermione know she shouldn't worry. 

"I'll go check," Hermione said. But instead of walking straight away in that direction, Hermione went into her book bag and retrieved her wand. Then she looked in Harry's bag and found his, too. That calmed her down a little. She knew Harry wouldn't go far without his wand. She tucked them both into her coat and looked at her mother. 

"What ever do you plan on doing with those?" Mrs. Granger asked, her eyes filled with concern over what her daughter was thinking.

"Hopefully, nothing," Hermione said. "I'll be right back."

"I'm going to go see if Mrs. Sterling will let me use the phone to call home. Perhaps Harry turned up there and you're worried over nothing," Mrs. Granger said and Hermione nodded. She couldn't imagine Harry finding his way there easily but she would let her mother feel helpful anyway. 

Hermione walked toward the back of the library and knocked on the door to the men's lavatory. When no one answered, she opened the door to find a very startled (and mostly deaf) Mr. Sharp washing his hands at the sink. He had just moved into her neighborhood a year ago and he never was very nice even though her parents had always performed dental work on him at a reduced cost. 

"What do you think you're doing in here, young lady! Get out now!" he shouted, giving her a nasty look. 

"I'm sorry, Mr. Sharp, but my friend seems to be missing. You haven't happened to see a boy about my age with black hair and glasses?" asked Hermione, loud enough for him to hear while looking quickly around the room. 

"Absolutely not. Now get out of here before I tell Mrs. Sterling what you and your friends are up to!" the old man said crossly and Hermione backed away as quickly as she could. She checked the ladies' lavatory just in case but it was empty. 

Hermione let a wave of panic bubble up to the surface but she forced it back down. It would do no good to panic now. Harry had to be here. She just wasn't looking in the right place. He was so tired that perhaps he fell asleep in one of the reading rooms or in one of the back rooms. She was sure that was it. He was just sleeping somewhere. 

She turned a corner and ran straight into Drew, receiving a strange static electricity shock when they touched. "Sorry about that. You okay, Hermione?" the boy asked, holding onto her arm as she regained her balance. 

"Thank you, Drew. I'm fine. You didn't happen to see Harry anywhere, did you?" she asked and Drew considered her question for a moment, rubbing his one hand with the other, before answering.

"He was over there talking to some girls earlier but they left. Maybe he went home with one of them," Drew answered, narrowing his blue eyes at her. 

"I doubt that," Hermione said. Harry picking up girls in the library and going home with them? The idea nearly made Hermione laugh. "If you see him, please let him know I'm looking for him. My mum is here to take us home."

"I'll do that. Tell your mum I said 'hi.'" Drew said, walking quickly away from her. 

Hermione took a deep breath and walked towards the few rooms she hadn't checked yet. He wasn't in any of the tiny reading rooms and one of the librarians assured her he wasn't in the back office area since that would never be allowed. She suggested that Hermione check the old storage room where the kids liked to hide out when they didn't want Mrs. Sterling to see what they were doing. Although Hermione couldn't imagine what Harry would be hiding from without her, she headed in that direction anyway, slipping her hand inside her coat and touching their wands. 

The room was empty. Now Hermione was really beginning to worry, her thoughts consumed everything that was going to happen next if Harry was missing. To her parents, he was just Harry, her friend since she was a little girl, but the wizarding world would not view the act of losing *the* Harry Potter as something they could just easily dismiss. Not that she would ever be able to, either . . . she loved him more than anyone else on earth and she would never forgive herself . . .

She had to stop it. There was a good reason he wasn't here. She knew there had to be one. He would never willingly leave her or his wand behind. It could be his only way to stay alive if . . . no no no. She wouldn't even think about that. 

But what if it wasn't willingly? They felt he was safe out here in the Muggle world where no one cared about who he was, but what if he wasn't safe here at all? What if . . .

"Hermione dear?" 

She turned around to find her mother standing in the doorway, looking very pale and rattled about something. It was then that Hermione's knees began to give out a bit but she caught herself before her mother noticed. 

"What?" asked Hermione, her voice cracking. She wasn't sure she wanted to hear what was coming next. 

"I just spoke to your father about Harry. . . "

Please say he's not dead . . . please say he's not dead . . . he's okay . . . he's okay . . .

". . . and he's not there."

He's okay . . . he's okay . . . he's not dead . . . he's just missing . . .

Those words echoed around Hermione's head so loudly that she couldn't hear anything else. She watched her mother's mouth move but she couldn't hear a word she was saying. She would do anything for him to be fine. She'd give up anything, including magic. Including ever being with him again. Anything. Just for him to be okay somewhere. 

"Hermione, are you listening to me?"

"Er -- yes," she lied, forcing herself to pay attention and watch her mother talk. She had to know even if it was horrible news. 

"A man claiming to be a friend of Harry's arrived at the library while I was on the telephone. He has Harry's owl and says his name is . . . something Lupin . . ."

"Remus Lupin?" 

"Yes, that was it. Remus Lupin. I wanted to make sure he was someone you actually know."

"I do," Hermione answered, her voice hardly sounding like her own.

"He's here with one of your professors. A Professor Snape, I believe. And there are . . . others, too," Mrs. Granger said and Hermione could tell from the look on her mother's face that they were probably other members of the Order and they didn't spend much time disguising their wizard appearance. "Mr. Lupin said that it was urgent that he see Harry immediately. He thinks he might be in danger," 

They both already knew that it was past 'might.' Harry was missing and it took every drop of willpower Hermione had not to drop to her knees and cry. 

"Hermione, where did he go?" a voice asked and Hermione looked up to find Remus Lupin staring at her from the doorway. 

"I don't . . . I don't know," she said, fighting her tears. 

Lupin came all the way into the room with Hedwig perched on his arm. He was followed by Professor Snape with his black robes swirling around him. He looked around the room, his eyes flitting from object to object. Tonks followed him in, her hair a violent shade of magenta. Moody came in right after her. 

Mrs. Sterling rushed in behind them all, demanding to know what was going on.

"And get that bloody owl out of my library before . . ."

Before she could get another word out, Lupin had out his wand and cast some sort of charm on her. She sank to the floor, silent for now. 

"Harry sent a letter last night and in it he mentioned your former boyfriend, a Drew Rowntree," Lupin said. As he talked, Professor Snape continued to look everything over carefully without moving. Moody decided that wasn't enough and he started walking around, taking a better look at the little back room. 

"That's his name."

"That's what I was afraid of. You see, his father has been a follower of the Dark Arts for years now . . ."

"What?" Hermione asked, cutting him off. 

"Your former boyfriend is a Squib, Miss Granger," Professor Snape said sharply, turning to look at her. 

"What?" Hermione and her mother both asked at once. 

"A non-magic child born to wizarding parents," Tonks answered before Snape could. 

"The opposite of your daughter," Snape added, giving Mrs. Granger a good once over, his eyes traveling slowly over her body as if she was something to be loathed. 

"I meant, how could I not know?" Hermione asked and Snape snorted softly. 

"Why would you suspect anything else, dear?" her mum asked and Hermione's brain started to click everything into place. 

"You should always be suspicious of everyone you meet," Moody added, going closer to a painting hanging on the wall. "Especially considering you're now in a serious relationship with Harry."

"What?" Mrs. Granger asked loudly. "What do you mean serious relationship?"

Hermione could feel Moody's eyeball looking at her through the back of his head but he didn't turn from the painting. She could also feel her mother's eyes staring at her waiting for an answer. 

"I think first we must locate this Drew Rowntree and his parents," Lupin said, temporarily saving Hermione from having to explain her current relationship with a boy her mother believed was just a friend. 

"I also think we need to take this painting with us. This is no ordinary piece of art . . . I mean beyond it being ugly and all. There's something dark about this and I'd like to examine it further," Moody said. Snape moved next to him and ran his fingers over the canvas, stepping back as paint flaked from the surface. 

"It's nothing but a deplorable attempt by a Muggle to make art," Snape said but Moody didn't look convinced. "Leave it here where it belongs, alongside their deplorable books."

Moody stepped back, considering it once more before turning around to face the group. Hermione knew her mother was still staring at her but she couldn't face her yet. 

"How did you know something happened to Harry?" she asked, looking at Lupin. 

"About an hour ago, after we finally contacted someone who knew all about the Rowntree family, Harry disappeared from . . . well, he disappeared from any of the tracking devices we have on him. And Augustine Sharp contacted us saying he lost sight of the boy . . ."

"Mr. Sharp?" Hermione asked, sounding astonished. 

"Yes, Hermione. He was put here to keep an eye on you last summer in case something happened. And when Harry came to visit, he watched him, too," Tonks answered. 

Hermione was still struggling to take this all in. They decided she needed to be watched along with Harry? They must be concerned that her friendship with him would be enough to make her a target for Voldemort or his people, especially after she went with him to the Department of Mysteries. 

"Mrs. Granger, perhaps we can move this conversation to your house? I think we have attracted enough attention already today," Lupin said, nodding towards a still silent Mrs. Sterling. Hermione finally looked at her mother as she nodded her head. "Tonks, can you take care of the librarian and anyone else who might have seen us enter?"

"I'll take care of it right away," Tonks said, tripping again over the woman she was supposed to be taking care of. She helped the dazed woman up and escorted her out of the room.

Everyone else followed, including her mother who looked disappointed and confused all at the same time, leaving Hermione alone in the room. It was then the tears started slipped down Hermione's cheek. Everything had been going too well and now that was over. She knew she was going to have to tell her parents the whole truth. She just wanted to stand here for a moment and pretend none of this was happening. They were going to go home and he was going to turn up there. He would turn up and they would spend this last night together like they had planned. 

But she knew that wasn't going to be the case. 

Taking a deep breath, Hermione resolved herself to the notion that she would deal with whatever was to come her way. She would be strong and figure this out. Harry was out there somewhere and she would do whatever she had to find him. She ached for him. She could still feel him with her, inside of her and close to her heart. 

So close, in fact, that when walking out of the room, she thought she could actually hear him calling her name. 

***************

"Hermione!" Harry called out one more time in desperation, hoping she would find him. How could she find him here? He didn't even know where here was. 

He wasn't even sure how much time had passed, unable to move his arm far enough to look at his watch. Every time he tried to move at all, he'd end up dry heaving until his stomach felt like it had when Dudley used to hold him down so his friends could take a jab at him. 

And his head . . . the light wasn't nearly as bright as it had been when he first arrived here but it still stung his eyes and caused his head to pound. He wasn't sure if the light was fading like the sun setting or if his eyes were simply growing accustomed to it. Every now and then, he'd take a quick look around before closing his eyes again. Even that movement was enough to make his stomach churn. The smell surrounding him only made it worse. It was like being soaked in linseed oil. 

All he hoped was that when he opened his eyes the next time, he'd find himself in a bed in Hermione's house and that this was nothing more than a very bad dream brought about by eating too much cake on his birthday.

He had a brief moment of hope when he finally could lift his head and take a look around. There was a brown haired girl standing in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest as she studied him intently.

"Hermione?" he asked, reaching out to the figure. She didn't answer and when he finally managed to focus on her, he realized that it wasn't Hermione at all. She was an odd looking girl, with pale skin that didn't look like skin at all. She moved closer to Harry, kneeling down beside him. When she placed one of her small hands on his forehead, there was no warmth coming from her touch. It was almost as if she were only an . . . image. Like a painting come to life. 

"The sickness will soon pass. This often happens to those from the other side when they first enter our world. Rest now and it will be gone when you wake," said the girl in a shimmering violet dress. He struggled to ask her something but no words would come out of his mouth. Instead, he did as she told him to do and shut his eyes, mercifully drifting off to sleep. 

********************

To Be Continued...


	9. Chapter 9

Maybe he was really dead this time. That would make the most sense considering everything. He couldn't manage to open his eyes no matter how hard he tried and he couldn't feel his body so he had to be dead.

There had been a bright and peaceful light that he couldn't help but go to. Wasn't that what Muggles in near death situations always claimed? In a few of the times he had nearly died, it was usually some sort of green light but in the Muggle accounts on those programs Aunt Petunia watched, there was always a bright light and they went towards it until something pulled them back. Harry was sure if he was that close to death again, he wouldn't come back for anything. Maybe this was the next great adventure Dumbledore once talked about. He could see his parents again. And Sirius. 

But did dead people have pounding headaches? He was sure they didn't. And there was one thing he'd come back for but it wasn't really a thing. It, or rather she was a person. 

She was Hermione.

With that thought, he finally opened one eye and found himself tucked in bed in what looked like the hospital wing at Hogwarts. He struggled to get his other eye open and even with his fuzzy vision, he could see enough to know where he was. He had been here plenty of times before and was quite familiar with the finer details of the hospital wing. 

So this wasn't going to be an adventure at all but how long had he been here? It couldn't have been that long but... something just didn't add up. He couldn't possibly still have been here since the rogue Bludger, could he? No, that was long before summer. Then Harry remembered Hermione and oh, the last few days he spent with her but that still didn't explain why he was here at Hogwarts. He turned his head and found her at his bedside, sleeping in such a way that her chin nearly touched her chest and her hair was even more wild than usual. But if he had just been at her house, how did he end up here? They were at the library and then... here?

"Her-mi..." he rasped, but his voice gave out before he could get the rest of her name out. He reached for her but found that he couldn't move his arms. It felt like as if trolls were sitting on his hands, holding them down. The same with his legs, but with heavier trolls. 

Hermione might not have heard him try to creak out her name, but Madam Pomfrey did. She was at his bedside immediately. "Mr. Potter, it's nice to see you awake." 

"Wha-" Hermione said, her head going up and her eyes flying open. "Harry!"

In an instant, she was hugging him as best she could considering he couldn't hug back. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him softly on the lips. He wasn't about to complain, but this was a rather strange thing to do in front of the school nurse. Madam Pomfrey usually asked no questions and did little to get anyone into trouble but weren't they keeping this hidden from adults? 

Madam Pomfrey asked her to kindly back up so she could examine the patient and Hermione sat back down, tears rolling down her cheeks. 

"How are you feeling?" Madam Pomfrey asked and he wasn't sure how he was feeling yet considering a minute ago he thought he was dead. "I imagine that was quite an adventure you where on."

"It was? What are you talking about?" he asked, his throat so parched it hurt. Madam Pomfrey stopped moving and looked him in the eye as if trying to tell whether he was joking or not. 

"Does your head hurt at all?" she asked and he nodded the best he could. She went to the bedside table and mixed together a potion so vile smelling even Hermione had to put her hand to her nose. 

"I'm supposed to drink that?" Harry asked, squinting at the green liquid bubbling up in the container. Even though he couldn't see very well without his glasses, he knew it looked bad. 

"It won't work from the outside, Mr. Potter. It's not as bad as all that. If you could survive Skele-Gro, you'll be able to stomach this," she said but Harry doubted it. She and Hermione helped prop him up long enough for him to drink it and he hoped he didn't vomit on them. They must have been thinking the same thing for as soon as he had finished it, they stepped away quickly. 

"What was that for anyway?" Harry asked. His throat was feeling better but now his stomach had become partners with his head in the ache department. 

He caught Madam Pomfrey giving Hermione a quick glance before turning to Harry. "Don't you worry about anything just yet. It was just a simple potion to help you get your strength back. You're going to need many more of those."

"My strength? What happened to me? How did I end up here?" he asked. He had just been in the Muggle library when that ex-boyfriend of Hermione's had approached him and... what happened after that and before the bright light? He couldn't remember a thing.

"All in good time, Mr. Potter. All in good time. That should help with your headache soon enough. I'll inform Professor Dumbledore that you're awake," Madam Pomfrey said, giving Hermione a stern look of warning before walking away. 

"Hermione, what's going on?" Harry asked after Madam Pomfrey had left the room. If anyone would tell him the truth immediately, it was Hermione. 

"Professor Dumbledore made me promise --" Hermione started to say and Harry groaned. He didn't want to hear that again ever. She looked away and pursed her lips, trying hard not to tell him anything.

"You have to tell me. You can't do this to me again. Not now. I don't give a damn what Dumbledore told you," he snapped at her. 

"Oh, Harry, he made me promise that if you couldn't remember what happened I would wait for him. I'm sure he won't make you wait long. There are a few things he wants to tell you and it really would be best coming from him," she said.

"Why not you? You are my girlfriend, aren't you? What happened? Tell me," he pleaded. "Explain to me how I got from the Muggle library to here because I don't remember any of it. If something happened to me there, why am I not in St. Mungo's or even at a Muggle hospital?"

"It's not that simple, Harry."

"How long have I been here? Can you at least tell me that?" he demanded and her eyes went to the door to see if anyone was standing there, listening. He could see her tears starting up again and one spilled over and onto her cheek. She did nothing to wipe it away. 

"A week."

"If it's only August, why are we at Hogwarts?" he asked, confused. He watched Hermione open and close her mouth, obviously debating what she should tell him, if anything. She closed her eyes briefly and sighed. He wished he could reach out and wipe away that tear or at least hold her hand but his arms were too weak. "Please, Hermione, I deserve some answers. The least you can do is tell me why we're here."

"We're here because it's October, Harry. It's the third of October," she whispered. 

"But... how?" Harry asked and she pursed her lips together, trying her hardest to not tell him more. She wasn't going to get the opportunity to anyway.

"Miss Granger, perhaps it would be best if you went and informed your friends that Mr. Potter is now awake," Madam Pomfrey said, returning to the room and bustling over quickly. She stood stiffly at Harry's bedside until Hermione stood up.

As his girlfriend ran her fingers across his hand, he could feel her warmth radiate through him. He wished she would stay by his side but could tell that Madam Pomfrey was concerned Hermione would let some information slip. "Ron and I will come to see you in a little while. I'm sure Ginny will want to come, too. We've all been so worried about you."

Harry could tell she wanted to say or do more but not necessarily in front of someone else. "I'll see you later," Harry said and she smiled at him and left. 

"Professor Dumbledore is on his way back from London. He will be coming to speak to you as soon as he arrives," Madam Pomfrey said, tucking his blankets around him. 

"Is it really October?" Harry asked as she fussed with his pillows. This was better treatment than he usually received and he was beginning to think that maybe something bad happened between then and now. 

"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter. I'm under strict orders from the headmaster not to tell you anything and unlike your friend, I intend to follow those orders," she said. Content that his pillows were fine, she left Harry alone with his thoughts. 

******************

After waiting an hour for Dumbledore to come talk to him, Harry found it impossible to avoid falling asleep. His body was so sore and his head still hurt. He just wanted to close his eyes for a few minutes...

She was there, pulling him towards... where? He didn't know but he couldn't help but follow her. Her violet colored skirt flitted around her ankles as she walked and her laugh was so joyful he could listen to it forever. They walked a long time down a path that was flanked by a thick forest on either side. Everything fascinated her, including him and he found it uncomfortable when he'd find her staring at him with her mismatched pale eyes. 

"You don't really want to leave here, do you?" she asked wistfully and Harry didn't know because he didn't know where here was exactly. 

"I don't know. Where are we going?" he asked but she answered only with a smile before running ahead of him. He gave chase, calling after her as loudly as he could,"You have to tell me! Someone has to tell me."

She turned to him but when she opened her mouth, it was Dumbledore's voice that came out. 

"Harry, wake up. You're safe here."

He opened his eyes to find the headmaster sitting at the edge of his bed, patting his hand reassuringly. Dumbledore helped him put on his glasses and it only took him a few seconds to become coherent enough to unleashed a barrage of questions. 

"What's going on? Why am I here? How did I get here? It's October and I..."

"Slow down, Harry. I plan on answering all your questions to the best of my ability but first tell me how you're feeling," Dumbledore said. 

"My head hurts and my arms and legs are too heavy to move," Harry grumbled. He didn't want to discuss his health. He wanted information. 

"All that should pass in time, I imagine. I'm sure you'll be rejoining your class shortly. I dare say they need their Quidditch captain back as soon as possible," Dumbledore said. Harry was afraid to ask what that meant but he had too many other questions to dwell on Quidditch right at the moment.

"Now will you tell me what's going on?" Harry asked, struggling to sit up. He couldn't do it so Professor Dumbledore assisted him, tucking a few pillows in behind Harry's head. 

"You don't remember any of it?" Dumbledore asked. 

"I was at the Muggle library with Hermione and then... I was here. In between, I'm not sure. Hermione said that it's October already. How can that be?" Harry asked, trying to remain patient. Not that long ago, he would have been screaming for answers by now but he knew Dumbledore wouldn't hide anything from him. Or he hoped he wouldn't. 

"I was hoping after the relative quiet of your last term that perhaps you would be able to spend the remainder of your time at Hogwarts in peace. I know we're waging this terrible war but if anyone deserves to have something as simple as that, it's you. Alas, it wasn't meant to be," Professor Dumbledore said, sadness filling his voice. 

Harry didn't care about that right now. He never expected the peace he did have last year and knew life would catch up with him sooner or later. Now, he was impatient for Dumbledore to go on. 

"Do you remember a young man by the name of Andrew Rowntree?" Dumbledore asked slowly, not continuing the story fast enough for Harry. 

"Yeah, I remember him. We met at Hermione's house and a few other places around town. I was at the library in Hermione's hometown and he came up to me. He told me he was a Squib and he was going to do something for his father. That he had this all been planned out but I ruined the plans by--" Harry said, falling silent before he let it slip how the plans all changed. 

"Drew, as he likes to be called, thought that if he could trap you, it would please his father and help the man get over the fact that his only son was born a Squib. His mother hasn't been well for years and he somehow manipulated her to moving into the Granger's Muggle neighborhood. He's a charming young man and Hermione was his target to get to you," Dumbledore said. 

"Why didn't he just move into my neighborhood? Why not Ottery St. Catchpole so he could be near the Weasleys? I was actually at those places," Harry asked. 

"I wondered that myself at first but there's more I have to explain before I can get to that. After time, Drew convinced his mother to open up a long forgotten passageway that existed between the magical portraits. A very complex spell was needed to do that since it had been sealed off for hundreds of years. Over the years, many people got lost inside the maze that exists back there, never to be heard from again. It's impossible to map out since it's constantly being added to and the people, or rather, the portraits aren't always helpful to those who get lost. That is why they sealed it off. That is where you've been since the beginning of August," Professor Dumbledore said and Harry closed his eyes, trying to remember any of it. 

The portraits had stopped moving right before the term had ended. In the library, Drew had told him something about the paintings but Harry couldn't recall his exact words. They had to keep the portraits from talking? He could vaguely remember a painting in that back room. It was ugly, made up of splashes of dark colors and looked like one at Hogwarts. Drew had shoved him toward the painting and... he couldn't remember anything else. 

"Why Hermione?" Harry asked, hoping Dumbledore would tell him now. 

"Quite by coincidence, Miss Granger lives in a town with one of those portals. Plus, there was no way he could ever become friends with you at your aunt and uncle's house. He didn't have to study you for long to realize you aren't allowed friends there. As for Mr. Weasley, I suppose it was because he could fit in better with Hermione's Muggle family than he could with a wizard family. 

It was hard, but Harry pulled himself to sit up just a little more, still trying to figure this all out in his head. The plan all hinged on Hermione introducing him to Drew and getting him into the library. With Hermione, the library part was probably the easiest aspect of the plan. The rest of it had so many flaws in it that Harry wanted to laugh. Had they not ended up dating because of Hermione's own plans, he would have never ended up staying at her house. He was never there before they were in this relationship. It could have failed in so many ways but obviously, it hadn't. He had been in there for some time. 

"How did I get out?" Harry asked and Dumbledore didn't answer him right away but rather let out a sigh. 

"Once the Order figured out what had happened to you and traced it back to the Rowntree family, it came down to opening up all the gateways in and out of the portraits. Someone went in to find you and lead you to a portal," he said, looking at Harry over his half-moon glasses. 

"Yes? Who was it?" Harry asked. 

"Alastar Moody and Professor Snape... yes, Harry, Professor Snape both wanted to go but Remus Lupin won out in the end. He felt he was partially to blame since it took him so long to figure out who the Rowntrees were after you mentioned the youngest one in an owl you sent him," Dumbledore said and Harry could tell something was wrong by the tone in his voice. 

"Where is he? Where's Lupin?" he asked, looking around at the other beds the best he could. Surely Hermione would have said something if he was here with them. 

"He didn't come back out."

Harry was sure he had heard him wrong but judging by the look on his face, he hadn't. 

"What?" he asked. 

"The portals were closed off again once you returned through the one into Hogwarts. He sealed them from the inside once you were safely on this side," Dumbledore said. Harry had a hard time hearing him and it didn't matter what he said anyway. None of it was making any sense. Lupin had to be here. He couldn't lose another person. There was no way this could be happening to him again. 

His body grew cold and he couldn't hold back the tears. He was so exhausted and he hurt so much and there was no way he could stop himself from crying. The tears flowed under his glasses and he couldn't move to take them off or wipe them away. 

"No. No, no, no!" Harry said in frustration, his voice rising to a shout and echoing off the walls around him. 

"It was his choice and we believe he had a good reason to do so," he said but that didn't calm Harry down one bit. 

"But why can't I remember it? I would have never let him do that! What happened to my memory? What did you do to me?" he asked, his voice sharp and angry. 

"We didn't do anything to you. Perhaps Remus performed a memory charm on you before sending you out --"

"Why would he do that?"

"He must have had his reasons, Harry," Dumbledore said, placing an aged hand on Harry's shoulder, trying to calm him. 

"No! Stop saying that! You can open it again, right? You have to open it back up!" Harry said through the tears. He didn't want to be crying. He couldn't even move his hands far enough to wipe the tears that were spilling over and onto his face. 

"I have to trust that he did it for a good reason."

"There's no reason good enough!" Harry sputtered, still struggling to move his arms. He wanted to hide his tears and but he couldn't move at all. He expected Dumbledore to look away but rather, he helped Harry up and after looking him in the eye for a few seconds, he pulled him into a tight embrace. Harry struggled against him, embarrassed to be seen like this but he finally succumbed to his emotions. Why couldn't Hermione be here? Why couldn't she be holding him and why couldn't she have told him? What could Remus have been thinking and why would he do this to Harry?

"I have to trust that he knew what he was doing. I have to," Dumbledore said softly, letting Harry's tears soak his heavy robes. 

"But we have to get him! We can't leave him in there!" Harry said and Dumbledore slowly helped him back down onto his pillows. Harry eyes were stinging and he didn't want to look at Dumbledore. He was too angry to look at him. "We can't..."

Neither of them said a word for several agonizing minutes. Harry could tell that Dumbledore wasn't going to change his mind about this no matter what kind of a tantrum he had. Harry would just have to think of something else.

"Perhaps you would feel better if Miss Granger came for a visit? She's been spending all her spare time at your bedside for the past month. I have no idea how Poppy ever got her to leave from here to attend her classes," Dumbledore said and Harry looked at him, puzzled. 

"Does everyone know ?" he asked softly.

"If we didn't know it before, we certainly knew it from the moment you disappeared. She wanted to go in, too, Harry. It took quite a few strong wizards to keep her from going after you," he said, smiling thoughtfully. "Now that I've told you what I know, she's free to tell you anything else."

"And my memory? Is there anything you can do to restore it?" Harry asked.

"Yes, but I'm not sure I want to do that just yet. Get some rest, Harry. You're going to need it to catch up on a month's worth of missed Potions assignments."

***************

Harry decided what he was going to do while he was staring at the oil painting hanging on the wall above the door. There was really only one thing he could do. Ron and Ginny had come to visit earlier but he couldn't take his eyes off of the painting. The figures in it were moving around as if nothing had happened and according to Ron, a few of the portraits still were frozen, including the Fat Lady at the door to Gryffindor Tower. No one was sure what had happened to them and why some were in working order while others remained as still as Muggle paintings. None of the ones that were back to normal knew a thing about what had gone on behind them. 

All Harry had to do was figure out where the painting that acted as a portal was and how to open it up again. He had a clue as to the where part but the how part was going to take some work -- or the creative mind of his brilliant girlfriend. He knew she'd never go along with this plan without some insistence on his part but in all these years, she had never failed to be at his side when the it came down to it and this time would be no different. 

He heard soft footsteps on the stone floor and looked away from the painting to find Hermione standing at the end of his bed. 

"I'm sorry I didn't come back sooner but Ron and Ginny said they would keep you company and I had some school work to catch up on," Hermione said, not looking directly into his eyes. Harry shrugged, trying to hold his emotions in check now that she was here. "So, you know?"

Harry choked back the tears that were beginning to form and he nodded. She came around to the side of his bed and sat on the edge of it, holding his hand. A few hours of rest and many more of Madam Pomfrey's potions and he could now hold her hand in return, squeezing it gently. 

"Why would Lupin do this to me?" Harry asked once he trusted his voice not to betray his emotions entirely. It didn't hurt as much as losing Sirius but it hurt nonetheless. Lupin had been a good friend and Harry couldn't bear to think that he felt he was the cause of what happened in the library. 

"I don't know, Harry. You probably know more than I do since you talked to Professor Dumbledore but you know Lupin wouldn't have done anything too foolish. When he went in there, he said he'd do whatever he had to in order to get you back and I have no doubt that he meant that," Hermione said, lacing her fingers through his. 

"But why did it have to be him?" 

"I wasn't part of that decision making process. You know I'm not part of the Order," Hermione said. The moon cast a somber glow through the windows, casting long shadows everywhere. 

"I wonder, if he's still alive, what a full moon will do to him in there?" Harry asked, nodding toward the window. 

"I wish you could remember any of it because you might already know the answer to that question," Hermione said and Harry tried to figure out in his head when the last full moon occurred. 

"Professor Dumbledore said there might be ways to restore some of my memories but he didn't want to do that now. He's protecting me from something as if I'm a child and I don't want to be protected. Hermione, can you --"

"I won't do it. Not if he says no," Hermione said, head shaking out a 'no' before Harry could get out the question. 

"Well, why not?" he asked. He didn't need her treating him like a child, too. 

"He has his reasons."

"Everyone seems to have their own bloody reasons for everything and I'm the one stuck here in this bed without a clue," Harry said, pulling his hand from hers. "I'm always the last to know everything. Speaking of knowing anything, what ever happened to Drew? Did he make his dad happy?"

Hermione sighed and took his hand in hers again, ignoring his tantrum. "I wouldn't know. He and his father disappeared right after it happened. His mum was the only one that could be found and it's a good thing, too, because she led the search back to that room in the library."

"To think you almost... with him," Harry said, sounding downright angry with the world at the moment. He didn't care. He was angry. 

"I didn't even come close and you know it," Hermione said, clucking her tongue at him. 

"Close enough."

"But yet, I didn't. Not after you. Is that what you want to hear? That there will never be anyone else but you for the rest of my life?" she asked, sounding rather distraught over where the conversation was headed. 

"Yes."

"Maybe I should come back when you're in a better mood," Hermione said, going to stand up. He wouldn't let her get away that easily and tugged her back down by her hand. 

"I'm sorry. I'm still... I'm stunned. Lupin is gone. I'm missing two months of my life. I missed the start of my last term here. I missed... I missed your birthday, Hermione. I wanted your birthday to be so special this year," Harry said, unable to fight back his emotions any longer. 

"I don't care about my birthday now that you're here. I didn't even notice it was my birthday since I was so worried about you. We'll make up for it next year when we're no longer in school. Besides, your birthday made up for a million of my birthdays," Hermione said, leaning over to kiss him. 

"My birthday -- it seems like just yesterday," Harry said as Hermione settled in next to him. He knew they shouldn't be doing this in the hospital wing but he didn't care if Madam Pomfrey caught them together. The most she could do would be send Hermione back to the Gryffindor dormitories. 

"It feels like forever ago," Hermione said, snuggling in against him. 

"I take it you didn't... you aren't... you know?" he asked, avoiding saying the words the best he could.

"I'm not what?" she asked. 

"That one time, we didn't exactly use any protection," he whispered. "Remember?"

"Oh! No, I'm not. I wasn't. I didn't even think about it again but that was really stupid of us since you were technically of age to use magic at that point. It must have slipped our minds somehow," she said. He felt a strange feeling pass through him, as if he had discussed this with someone already. 

"It's nice having you here. I was getting lonely," Harry said, turning his face toward her. She smelled so good and felt so warm and soft in his arms and he never wanted to let her go again. Unfortunately, that wasn't going to work well with his plans. 

"This sounds so childish but when you were gone, I wasn't sure how I was going to go on. Time moved so slowly and every minute was more painful than the last. The days were long and the nights were unbearable. If it weren't for Fred and George and some other members of the Order, I would have never known what was going on. I felt so helpless and lost," she said, crying now.

"I'm sorry," he said, wishing he could make it up to her somehow but not knowing how. 

"There were times when I told myself that if you were found and brought back, this thing would have to end because I'm not sure I could stand the pain of losing you ever again," Hermione said and Harry could feel her tears soaking through his pajamas. 

"Hermione..."

"But here I am because being with you is worth that risk." 

Something rattled around in the other room and Hermione moved quickly from his arms to the chair at the side of his bed. Both of them didn't even dare breathe until they were sure no one was coming in. 

"I can't wait until we can finally be alone. I need to be with you again," she said, the tone of her voice such that it made his heart ache with desperation for her. 

"I won't be in here much longer. I'll do anything to not have to take anymore of Madam Pomfrey's potions, including crawl out of here and back to my room. Speaking of rooms, did you make Head Girl this year? And who's Head Boy? Ron didn't say -- was it him?" Harry asked. It was one of the millions of questions he had about the time he was gone. 

"Ron didn't but I am Head Girl even though certain professors thought I would be too distraught to handle the pressure. I've done just fine and I have my very own room," Hermione said, sounding rather proud of herself.

"But the stairs--"

"I already took care of that."

"My memory might be a bit spotty at best but at least I do remember that sometimes, I'm a girl," Harry joked and Hermione ran her hand down his arm, taking his hand in hers once more.

"I hope not. That would ruin some plans I have for when you're feeling better," she said, her eyes meeting his and flashing with desire. That look coupled with her words was enough to send a quick flash of arousal through him. He shifted in bed, pulling the blankets up around him.

"I better go before I climb into that bed with you," she said but she didn't move. 

"You had better do that before I pull you into this bed with me," he said, releasing her hand. 

She stood to leave, giving him a lingering kiss before she bid him goodnight and walked away. He sighed and rolled over, looking at the painting once more. How could he leave her again? He must have been mad. The only answer was that she would have to come with. Now he had to figure out how to ask the question. 

***************

Hermione supported Harry by tucking her arm around his waist, helping him walk between the rows of beds in the hospital wing. Ron sat on one of the beds, looking on as he ate the chocolate frogs people had sent Harry. Madam Pomfrey looked in on them occasionally to make sure Harry wasn't over doing it but she looked pleased that he was recovering so quickly. He had no choice. Time was flying by and he wasn't going to be able to help Lupin if he was stuck in bed. 

"When do you think you'll be ready to play Quidditch again?" Ron asked through a mouthful of chocolate. 

"Really, Ron, that's the least of Harry's worries right now. He'll have to catch up on all those classes he missed first," Hermione scolded and Harry couldn't fail to notice Ron roll his eyes as he muttered something about priorities. 

After another turn or two up and down the cold stone floor, Hermione helped Harry back to his bed. She tucked him in like a doting mother and Ron looked away when Harry's face burned with embarrassment. 

"Thanks," Harry said when she finished and she gave him a kiss on the cheek. 

"I have to go to the library to work on an essay. I, too, have fallen behind in the last month. Ron, can you get me when you're finished here?" Hermione asked and Ron nodded, trying to swallow more of a frog.

Once she was gone, Ron moved to the bed right next to Harry's and offered him some of the sweets. Harry had found it hard to eat since he woke up and the thought of chocolate turned his stomach so he shook his head in refusal. 

"No wonder she's so far behind. I thought she was going to go mad while you were gone. We all felt that way, really. My mum was beside herself and the Grangers -- those poor Muggles. The entire Order set up operations in their house until they figured out what had happened to you," Ron said, filling in more of the pieces of the story. He had heard most of it from Hermione, but hers was the tearful version. 

"I reckon it was a shock having Snape lurking about their parlor," Harry said and Ron laughed. 

"Too right. But the Grangers were worried they had lost 'the boy who lived' and were even more worried about their daughter. Seems that you two weren't exactly truthful about your relationship," Ron said slyly and Harry winced. He hadn't thought about them finding out and Hermione made no mention of it. "Mum was so worried something might happen to all of us that she even made me come back from Romania."

Harry sensed that he was forgetting something or that Ron was waiting for him to remember something important. He closed his eyes and tried to think about it, wishing that Ron would just tell him. He had been in here several times since Harry had come to but he never said anything. It didn't help that Hermione was usually here, embarrassing both of them by acting more like a mother than a girlfriend...

"Girlfriend! You met a girl in Romania... now I remember!" Harry said, sitting up in bed and facing Ron, whose ears were now tipped in red. Ron smiled widely, though, nodding his head. 

"Tullia," Ron said dreamily. 

"Go on then. Tell me more," Harry said. 

"She attends school in Italy and she's a rather talented witch -- not like Hermione but in a different way. My mum said she might let me go and visit her family over Christmas holidays or maybe she can come to The Burrow. That way, you and Hermione could come and meet her. Wouldn't that be great!" Ron said excitedly. He was nervously playing with a bit of loose yarn at the bottom of his jumper, twisting it around his finger as he talked. Harry enjoyed this, being able to shove all thoughts of Lupin and what he had to do to the back of his mind for a few minutes as he talked with his best friend. 

"I'd like to meet her."

"You're going to like her a lot," Ron said, a faraway expression on his face. He was smiling at whatever thought was going through his head.

"Is there anything else you want to tell me?" Harry asked, amused at how fidgety Ron had become. Ron's entire face turned a bright scarlet as he looked away from Harry, a good part of the bottom of his jumper coming unraveled around his fingers. "I told you it was great, didn't I?"

Ron looked at Harry again, his eyes twinkling with some secret memory. "Yes, you did and you weren't lying." 

***************

The clamor in the Gryffindor common room had died down and at last, Ron trudged on up to bed, having eaten far too many of the sweets Mrs. Weasley had sent in celebration of Harry's release from hospital. Harry and Hermione were the only two people left in the room now and although they had been alone many times in the hospital wing in the last few days, this felt different. Even though in his mind, he had just been with her at her house a few days ago, he knew it was different for her. Two months had gone by and she looked nervous now that she was finally and completely alone with him. 

Before he could say or do anything, Hermione was up off the couch they had been sharing and looking at the clutter left behind by the others. She took out her wand and went about cleaning up the room and Harry knew part of the reason was so the house elves wouldn't have to do it later. He watched as his girlfriend efficiently made several empty tins and various other containers stack themselves into a neat pile, wishing she would stop and come sit by his side again. 

"Scourgify," she said, pointing her wand at a spot on the worn carpet in front of the crackling fire that was burning bright in the fireplace. The stain disappeared and she looked around the room to see if there was anything else that needed to be cleaned up. 

"Hermione, stop cleaning and come over here," Harry said and she hesitated for just a moment before tucking her wand away and coming back to the couch. She sat stiffly and brushed something off the soft fabric of the couch. "Is something wrong?"

She didn't speak for a long time. Instead, she stared into the fire as if she was expecting someone to show up in there. He watched the firelight play on her face, setting her eyes aglow. 

"It was so hard, trying to accept that you might not come back... that you might be dead. But for you, no time has passed. You feel as if we were together last Tuesday. It's not that I wish you felt the same way I did; it's just that it hard to have missed you so much and you... you have no clue what you felt at all."

"I missed you," Harry said reassuringly, pulling her into his arms and holding her close. "I might not remember it yet but I know I did. I'm certain I missed all of this -- the start of term at Hogwarts, Ron, Quidditch and most of all, you. I'm sorry you had to go through what you did. I know how I'd feel if you were missing." 

Harry felt her settle against him, her body warm against his chest. He found it amazing what she could do to him; how she made him open up and say things he never thought he'd say in his life. 

"There were times when I was certain I could hear your voice calling for me," she said softly. "And I spent a lot of time thinking about what it would be like if you were found but it wasn't anything like this. I'm not sure what I was expecting." 

Harry watched the flames leap about in the fireplace and thought about telling her his plans but decided against it. She wasn't ready for that yet and he wasn't sure he was ready, either. If he went alone, she would never forgive him. Besides that, without her skills, chances are he'd never figure it out in the first place. He needed her. 

But right now, she needed him to be here. 

Harry was beginning to get sleepy from the combined warmth of Hermione and the fire. She was growing heavier in his arms and he thought perhaps she had fallen asleep. He moved a little and that was enough to stir her into wakefulness again and she sat up beside him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep but it's so nice being with you. After you were gone for so long, I was convinced this would never happen again and now here we are and I'm sleeping," she said. He squeezed her hand to let her know it was okay. 

"Next time I get sent into a trap, you know I'm taking you with me, don't you?" Harry asked and Hermione turned to him and smiled. 

"I would hope so," she said and he leaned in to kiss her. It was soft and tenuous at first, lips barely brushing, and he felt as nervous as he did when he kissed her the first time long ago though he wasn't sure why. Maybe because she was so nervous. She was right; in his mind, they were together just a few days ago. The memories of that morning and the shower and then her bed were still fresh to him and just thinking about that day made a soft moan rise up into his throat. Her mouth parted slightly and their tongues touched for just a second before the kiss ended. 

She moved away, pressing her hand to his cheek. "It's going to be nice getting to know you again."

"We don't have to get to know each other again all in one night. If you're nervous or having second thoughts..."

"Second thoughts about what?" she asked as if she genuinely couldn't believe he'd ask such a thing. He looked away, trying to find the right words. Maybe it would be best if this whole thing ended and he wouldn't have to worry about hurting her again. That would be the right thing to do. This time, he didn't want to do what was right. 

"Nothing. No second thoughts ever, right?" 

"Right. Never." With that she stood up in front of him, the firelight framing her and adding golden highlights to her hair. "I have some of your things in my room and you're going to need them for class tomorrow. Would you like for me to bring them down... or would you like to come with me to my room to get them?"

Her voice was so sweet and alluring that he didn't have to think about his answer for long.

***********

"Your broom," Hermione said, handing over his Firebolt. "Tonks and George broke into your aunt and uncle's house to get your things out of there. I'm sure George will want to tell you all about it because it was quite an adventure but we were afraid that once they found out you were missing, they'd put it all in the bin."

"I'm sure they were disappointed to hear of my return," Harry said, his hand running over the smooth handle of his broom. He had hid it away the other day... a while ago before he left for Hermione's. The handle hadn't been this polished when he last saw it and he realized that Hermione must have done that for him. 

"Is it... okay?" 

"It's wonderful, Hermione. I didn't know you knew anything about broom maintenance," he said, examining the neatly trimmed twigs.

"It gave me something to do and I wanted it to be in good condition for when you returned," she said, turning toward her bed. Hermione retrieved something from her bedside table and brought it to him. "Professor Dumbledore said I could return this to you."

Harry put aside his broom so he could take his wand from her. "I really could have used this." To others, it would have sounded like an offhand comment but they both looked at each other, Hermione cocking her head to the side waiting for him to explain. "I think," he added quickly, shrugging his shoulders.

"Are you starting to remember?" she asked.

"Sometimes I remember a feeling. I know I missed you and I'm sure I could have used my wand but I can't tell you what for. I wish I knew more because that would be helpful when..." he stopped himself before he told her too much. 

"Helpful when... what?" she asked.

"It would be helpful for when people ask me what happened. So many people have asked and honestly, your side of the story is far more interesting than mine. At least you know what you were doing," Harry said, not exactly lying about why he wished his memory was restored but not telling her everything. 

"I've been doing some research on memory charms and counter-charms," Hermione said casually. She didn't add anything more but rather went to the other side of her bed and pulled his trunk to his feet. "This should be everything. Tonks and George might have left a few things but I'm sure they got the most important items. You had brought your favorite things to my house anyway but I put them back in the trunk. Your album is in there."

He had stopped listening at the moment she put the trunk in front of him.

"What did you find out about my memory?" he asked. She had said she wasn't going to help because of Dumbledore and now she was doing research. He knew it would be a challenge for her to figure it out plus she was very interested in what had happened. She might not say it but he knew it

"Most of the texts say that once an obliviate charm has been cast, it's impossible to restore those memories," she said in her usual matter-of-fact tone she got when discussing anything that came out of a book.

"Oh."

"But that's assuming this is a result of Lupin or someone casting a memory charm on you. What if it's simply a side effect of being wherever you were for so long? Even Mrs. Rowntree said she'd never been in there for more than a few hours. Most people who were gone longer than a few days never came back out. If they did, it was always assumed they'd be barking mad," Hermione said. Harry could tell by the look in her eyes that she was going to figure this out. It was a puzzle for her to solve and she would do it. "I'm assuming you aren't barking mad?"

"No, not yet. So, is there anything you can do?" Harry asked. 

"I'll have to study it more. There are a few books in the Restricted Section I'd like to get my hands on. Perhaps I'll get permission tomorrow," Hermione said and Harry felt a heavy cloak of disappointment fall over him. He just wanted to remember. He was kicking at the edge of a small red rug in her room, trying to hide his frustration but failing at it miserably. He only stopped when Hermione took him by the hand and pulled him toward her bed. 

"What are you doing?" he asked. He thought they were still discussing his memory. 

"You have a lot of catching up to do, Harry," she said as she pushed him down so he was sitting on the edge of her bed. Crookshanks, who had been sleeping in a curled up ball of orange fluff went running. 

"I do?"

"Yes, you do," she said, stepping in closer to him and pulling her jumper off. He reached out and stroked where the satin fabric of her bra met her skin and she shivered under his touch. 

"What do I have to catch up on?" he asked, licking his lips as she reached around and unclasped her bra. 

"First, you have to learn how to apparate so you can be tested..." she said, stopping as he pulled away his fingers so her bra could drop to the floor. 

"Did you pass the test?" he asked. He didn't know since he wasn't here for her birthday and it never occurred to him to ask. He had a lot of things he needed to ask about and he kept forgetting all the questions in his head. 

"I didn't take it yet. I was at school and then you came back and after that, I thought I'd wait for you," she said. He hooked a finger into the waistband of her jeans and tugged her closer. 

"Thanks for waiting. I'm sure I'm going to need some help, with me being a little out of practice and all," he said.

"I haven't practiced in a while either but I'm sure we'll both do fine with a few refresher courses," Hermione said.

"I hope so," he said. 

When she was as close as she could get without falling on top of him, he reached out and touched one nipple and then the other. Looking up, he found that she was watching him with wide eyes. When he pulled a hardened nipple in between his lips and let his tongue flutter against it, she moaned. "I missed you," she said, combing her fingers through his already tangled hair. "I missed you so much it hurt."

He struggled to get her jeans off of her without pulling his mouth from her skin. With some help from her, Harry managed to do it, sliding them down past her hips. She couldn't get them off because she still had her shoes on but he didn't care at the moment. He brushed his finger down her abdomen, feeling her draw in a quick breath before he got to where he was going. 

She sank down against his fingers as soon as he touched her and let out that breath in a drawn out sigh. His eyes locked onto hers and it felt as if neither of them was ever going to blink. He stroked her again and again and they only broke eye contact when she fell forward, her hands resting on his shoulders. He didn't stop, but slid his fingers into her, feeling how hot and wet she was. As anxious as he was to be inside of her, he could wait a while longer. 

He slid off the bed to his knees and helped her get out of her shoes and she stepped all the way out of her jeans. She sank to her knees in front of him and he began to touch her again, this time while kissing her so completely that he felt they had melted into one. Mouths and hands and fingers were all desperate for more and he groaned when she pressed her hand against the front of his jeans. Pulling her hand away, she ended the kiss abruptly and leaned back enough to watch his face. Hermione's mouth fell open ever so slightly as she struggled to catch her breath. "Faster," she begged, putting her hand on top of his to show him what she wanted, never taking her eyes off of his. Not until she came. 

She pulled his hand away and fell against him. He held her in a tight embrace until she was completely still. "You have on too much clothing for what I plan to do to you," she said tugging at the back of his shirt.

"I was busy in case you didn't notice," he said, letting her go so she could pull his shirt over his head. Next, she focused on getting him out of his jeans.

"I noticed," she said. "Should we try moving this to the bed?"

"Er-- yeah, that would be good," he said, though he didn't really care where they went next. All he could focus on was her hand brushing against him as she pulled down his zipper. She couldn't get much further than that so he stood up, kicked his shoes off as quickly as he could and stripped out of the rest of his clothing. Offering her a hand up, he pulled her into his arms and they tumbled onto the bed together. 

"Being Head Girl really does have its advantages," she said, straddling his hips. 

"I hope you don't think that's the only reason I'm in bed with you. Your power hasn't gone to your head, has it?" he asked and she laughed, leaning over so her hair tickled his face. 

"Not yet," she said, sinking down upon him and letting him ease into her slowly. He hoped that there wasn't anything wrong; that this didn't hurt again after so much time had gone by. She didn't move right away and he wrapped his hands around her waist, urging her on. She whispered, "Not yet," and remained still, just watching him. 

"Hermione," he said, sounding desperate. "Please. Please, I need you..."

With that, she started to move, rolling her hips as she rose up and down over him, taking him all the way in and then letting him nearly slip out over and over again. Using his hands, he showed her how fast he needed her to go and she did it, never letting up for even a moment. Everything around him became a blur and the only thing he could see was her face looking down upon him, her eyes heavy and dark with desire. 

He struggled to make this last long but he was losing that battle. When she sank down once again, he held her there so he was completely wrapped in her body. All she did was tighten her inner walls around him and that was it. Everything in the room, including Hermione, was replaced by a blazing white light and it was so peaceful that he never wanted to leave it behind. Fading all too quickly, he found everything coming back into focus and the first thing he saw was Hermione smiling above him, looking rather pleased with herself as she ruffled his hair a bit. 

She eased herself slowly off of him and fell to his side. After pulling a quilt over them, he wrapped her up in his arms, feeling her fingers swirl against his chest as if she were writing words into wet sand. Maybe she was writing words. He couldn't tell.

"I would assume there are rules against me moving in here with you?" he asked. 

"There are some rather strict rules against you being here at all," she answered with a sigh. He was growing sleepy in the warmth of her bed and would like nothing more than to spend the night here. Or the rest of his life. 

"Then I suppose I better leave," he said, stifling a yawn. "If I don't go now, I will be too tired to leave later."

"Stay just a little longer," she said softly, sounding like a child afraid that if they let go of something for just a while, it will get lost forever.

"Make sure you get me up in time. I'll have to go... to my room," he said, feeling sleep quickly catching up to him... struggling against it... losing... opening his eyes only to find himself face to face with the girl in the violet dress. 

***************

To Be Continued


	10. Chapter 10

Wandering the corridors for hours under his invisibility cloak, Harry looked at as many portraits and paintings as he could before his eyes began to sting and his legs grew heavy from exhaustion. None of the faces looking back at him from inside the many frames seemed remotely familiar. Some were frozen in place as if they were in some Muggle gallery while others were snoring away or chatting with friends but he could see no pattern as to why it was this way.

He tried to keep a mental count of all the empty frames and where they were located so he could check again tomorrow but he was growing too tired to remember them all. The cloak was even beginning to feel heavy but before he went to bed, he wanted to check one more room.

Once inside, he shed the cloak, letting it drop to the floor. This was the room where they had found him, unconscious on the floor underneath the painting. The painting still hung on the wall but when he tried to get close to it and touch the canvas, he was repelled by a barrier charm.

This was now one more thing he'd have to get through. Just one more problem to work out on a list of problems so long he didn't even know where to begin. He knew what he had to do first and that was to find the girl who was haunting his dreams. Harry couldn't even be sure that she was someone from one of the many portraits hanging in Hogwarts but he had to find out. Maybe she was the key to getting him back there to help Lupin get back out.

Harry turned and looked at the dim and dusty room, his thoughts shifting to the time he and Hermione escaped here to celebrate Valentine's Day together. Everything between them was still so new then and their biggest wish was to spend the night together. Now he left her alone in her room, sleeping. He was going to be in so much trouble in the morning. He looked at his watch and realized it was already nearly morning and he had no clue what his first class was. It didn't matter because he had no intention of going anyway. What was one more day at this point?

Sitting down on the cold floor, Harry stared at the unsightly painting that was part of all of this. There had to be a reason Professor Dumbledore left it here and didn't destroy it as soon as Harry returned but he would never tell him why.

He would just have to find out why by himself -- or maybe with a little help from his friends. Did he really want to pull them into this and endanger their lives again? He wasn't sure but he knew he couldn't hide this from Hermione forever. They were far too close and she was far too observant for that to happen now.

************

Harry could sense that someone was standing behind him as he pulled several books from the library shelf. He hoped that if he ignored them, they would go away but he soon gave that up.

"I'll be done in a minute," he said, checking the spines to make sure these were the titles he was looking for.

"Hey, Harry," a soft voice said and Harry turned to find Zoila Witherite with a heavy book bag over her shoulder and several scrolls clutched in her hand.

"Hi, Zoila," Harry said, tucking the books under his arm. He didn't really want her to know what he was up to even though there was no chance she'd ever figure it out just from the title of a few books. Hermione might be able to, but not this girl.

"I didn't get a chance to talk to you last night but it's good to have you back. I designed a few more plays while you -- over the summer. Would you like to look at them?" she asked, passing the scrolls from one hand to the other. Harry looked down at his watch and shook his head. He didn't really have time for this right now. The library would only remain quiet like this in the morning for so long and he didn't want too many people to see him here.

"Now's really not a good time. Perhaps we can meet later in the common room? I'm sure Ron will want to join in the discussion," Harry said and Zoila smiled at him.

"Ron was a good acting team captain but it will be nice to have you back on the pitch," she said and Harry couldn't help but smile back at her.

"Thanks," he mumbled and her cheeks got a touch rosy.

"Er -- okay. Tonight, then. I'll meet you after dinner? How does that sound?" she asked and he nodded in agreement, watching her walk off, her robes slipping off her slight shoulders. She gave him a little wave before she disappeared from sight. Harry carried his books back to the table he had been at all morning. It was already covered with books and each time Madam Pince asked if she could put some away, he told her no, he needed all these books to catch up on his missing assignments. That seemed to appease her for now.

He was going to find out who she was and he hoped that the answer was in one of these books. It might take him the rest of the day but he was going to find it. He flipped through page after page of the new books, his eyes scanning over the words and the drawings.

Feeling someone standing over him, Harry didn't even bother to look up before speaking. "I said we could talk later, Zoila. I have to get this done."

"I'm not Zoila," Hermione said and he looked up from the page before him to find his girlfriend standing with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Hermione... I'm sorry. She was just here asking to go over Quidditch plays. I figured... what are you doing here?" he asked.

"What are you doing here?" she asked back, sitting across from him.

"Er - catching up on the work I didn't finish over the summer. Why? Is something wrong?"

Harry quickly closed a rather cumbersome tome on the history of magical art that Madam Pince had been rather hesitant to give him. Professor Dumbledore probably had something to do with that and he had to work hard to convince her it was for one of his classes. He set it aside and pulled his bag over the pile.

"I could ask you the same thing," she said, tilting her head to the side as she considered him closely. Too closely for his comfort and he looked away.

"Nothing's wrong. I just have a lot of studying to catch up on and I never finished my homework that was assigned for over the summer. Why do you ask?" Harry grabbed for the scroll he had been taking notes on before she could see it, rolling it up and shoving it in his bag.

"You disappeared from my room without even saying goodbye and then you weren't at breakfast or in our first class this morning. I was worried. I even checked the hospital wing before finding you here," she said, looking around as if this was the most unlikely place on earth she'd ever find Harry skivving off to. 

"I must have lost track of the time," Harry said with a shrug and Hermione picked up one of the many books on the table. "As for last night, I'm sorry. I couldn't sleep and didn't want to disturb you. Besides, it wouldn't be wise to get caught sleeping in the head girl's room on my first night in the dorms."

"Next time, wake me up and say goodnight before you go," she said, her voice low so the others in the library wouldn't overhear them.

"I will," he said but he wasn't sure she heard him. She was more interested in the books on the table than anything else at the moment and there was no way he could hide them all from her without it looking too obvious. He needed more time before he told her about any of this... about his plans and about the dreams.

"It's about time you read this," she said, holding up a copy of 'Hogwarts, A History' before leafing through it herself.

"I haven't read that one yet," he said and she made a soft huffing sound. He watched her, unable to look at any of the other books while she was there. Hermione snapped the creaky old book shut loudly enough that Madam Pince stuck her head out from between two stacks and 'shushed' her loudly.

"I think we need to get to our next class. You've already missed a considerable amount of material and you shouldn't miss more," Hermione said, looking nervously at her watch.

"I'll meet you there," Harry said, unable to hide his disinterest in whatever class was next. He didn't even know for sure what class it was he already missed and he didn't really have a clue as to what class it was he was supposed to be in next.

"Do you want me to tell Professor McGonagall that you aren't feeling up to returning to class yet?" Hermione asked.

"Why would you do that?"

"That's your next class and for some reason, I don't think you're going to be there," Hermione said disapprovingly.

"I'll be there. Go on ahead so you aren't late. I have to put these books back," Harry said.

"You'll really be there?" she asked.

"Yes," he said and judging from the look on her face, she knew he was lying. There was no way he could quit looking now but in order to do so, she had to leave him alone. This wasn't how this scenario usually played out. Typically, he was the one trying to get her out of the library while she sat surrounded by a pile of books and not the other way around. He looked into her eyes and smiled. "I love you. Now go away."

She laughed and stood up, smoothing out her robes. "Will you at least be at lunch?" she asked.

"Do you think it would be wise to skip all my morning classes and then show up for lunch?" he asked.

"Probably not. I'll come and find you and we can do something together for lunch," she said and he agreed. With that, she turned and left him alone with the big pile of books on the table.

He wasn't searching for long when he finally found something close to what he was looking for. It was a listing of all the artwork in Hogwarts Castle complete with a map of where the paintings were located. Or at least where they were located several years ago.

"Damn," he muttered to himself as he started to search the list, his eyes skimming name after name, hoping something would jump out at him. If he was lucky, the art didn't get moved very often and the diagram would lead him to her. If only he could remember something. Anything.

Harry almost missed it as he ran his finger down the page, his eyes darting about.

Untitled painting. Artist unknown. Main subject, a female, wears a violet dress. Located on the west wall of the sixth floor corridor.

Something about that description told him this painting had to be it. That had to be the portrait of the girl who kept visiting his dreams. If not, he would just have to keep searching until he found her and the answers to all his questions.

**************

He wasn't sure how many hours he had been staring at the empty portrait, waiting for its occupant to return. He hoped she was somewhere in the castle visiting another painting but as the hours slowly passed by, Harry began to have his doubts.

His whole body was stiff from sitting on the floor, watching and waiting. Looking at his watch, he realized he was now two hours late for the appointment he had with Madam Pomfrey. She would be looking for him soon enough, demanding that he take another dose of that disgusting potion she insisted he needed daily for the next week.

From out of one of narrow windows, Harry could see that the sky was brushed in the soft colors of twilight but he wasn't ready to give up yet. He couldn't give up yet. It was then that he heard the footsteps coming toward him and he knew immediately who it was.

Hermione sat next to him, taking his hand in hers, their fingers entwined. "Like with many things that have happened in your life, I won't pretend to know what you're going through right now but I'm here if you want to talk about it."

"You're not here to give me a lecture about missing class today?" Harry asked and Hermione squeezed his hand.

"I'll get to that later but first, I want you to tell me why you spent the day in the library and sitting on the floor?" Hermione asked and Harry didn't answer right away. "You know something, don't you? You remember something."

Harry swallowed hard and answered her. "A girl... a woman. I remember a young woman. Or at least I think I do. I think she's from this painting." He tipped his head toward the empty frame.

"Oh?"

"For a few nights, she was in my dreams but last night it was like she was really there. That's why I left you. I have to figure out who she is because she's so familiar and I know she has to be a part of this. And then I think I might..." Harry stopped before he said too much.

"Might what?" she asked. "Might what, Harry? You aren't thinking... you are!"

"I have to! I can't leave him there, Hermione. He went in to save me and now I have to go find him," Harry said. Hermione let go of his hand and folded her own hands together on her lap.

"Were you just going to leave? And how about Ron? Did you think you could just do this without telling either of us?" Hermione asked, her voice growing rather impatient.

"That isn't it at all," Harry said with a heavy sigh. He was going to put this off but now he couldn't. "I need your help. You need to help me figure out how to open up the portal so I can go back in there. Right now that painting is protected by some sort of charm so first we need to break that and then --"

"Harry, are you sure this is a good idea? Lupin must have known what he was doing when he sealed--"

"Then I'll do it myself."

"No you won't! What if something happens to you once you're inside?" Hermione asked, turning to face Harry.

"What if something happens to you?" he asked and they fell silent. Both Ron and Hermione knew that close calls were part of the deal with being his friend but everything changed so much over the last year. At least it had with Hermione.

"I've made it this far, haven't I? I just want you to think about this more before you go rushing off to save someone. You have to consider the consequences. You need a plan so no one else ends up..." Hermione's voice trailed off and Harry looked down at his hands. She was right. Nothing would ever erase the memory of the last time he went off without a plan. He almost lost Hermione and he did lose his godfather.

"We need to hurry, though, Hermione. We don't know what's happening to him in there," Harry said and Hermione looked up at the empty portrait frame.

"So, who is she?"

"I don't know. She doesn't have a name as far as I can tell and I'm not even sure if this is really her portrait. No one has mapped them out for a few years or if they did, they didn't leave a record of it," Harry said and Hermione made a soft snorting sound. "What?"

"I'm sure Drew's mother did. She was fascinated by the art here. Drew took advantage of that knowledge," Hermione said and that started something spinning in Harry's brain.

"Where is she? What happened to her after everything?" Harry asked.

"She's in St. Mungo's now. After everything she had been through with Drew and his father, she needed some help. If she ever gets out of there, she'll probably end up in Azkaban for her part in your abduction," Hermione answered.

"Can we ask her about this particular portrait? Maybe she'll remember something," Harry said, staring at the nearly empty canvas, hoping to see movement of any kind in the rest of the painting. It was an pastoral scene -- where did he learn the word pastoral? He wasn't sure. He wasn't sure of so many things except that he had to get to Lupin.

"I don't know if she's well enough, Harry, but we can try. We are going to be in so much trouble. You know that, don't you?" Hermione asked, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"I'm afraid if I don't do this, I'll regret it for the rest of my life," Harry said. Something clattered down the corridor and they both looked but saw no one. Harry lowered his voice. "Maybe we shouldn't talk about this here, Hermione. All I have to say is I have enough regrets already."

"So do I," Hermione said. She reached out for him and ended up tucked under his arm, her head against his shoulder.

"What do you regret?" he asked.

"The many times I should have stopped you from doing something but I didn't and this might be just another one of those times. I regret that I didn't know more about Drew and I let him do what he did to you. I regret what happened to your family including Sirius..."

"Those are all regrets for me and my life but what about you, Hermione?" Harry asked and she didn't answer right away but instead snuggled further against him, placing on her hands on his thigh.

"Our first time could have been different--" Hermione started to answer but Harry interrupted her.

"I didn't think it was that bad. I know it wasn't great for you but it could have been much worse--" This time it was Hermione's turn to interrupt him.

"That's not what I meant. What I mean when I say I wish it had been different is that I wish you and I had gone about it differently. That I hadn't been using you like I did. I wish we had done normal things like dates in Hogsmeade and hiding out in broom closets to make out. I've never done that with anyone I liked. Not Viktor. Not Drew... that one was far from normal," Hermione said with a sigh.

"I don't think anything about our relationship is ever going to be normal, Hermione," Harry said, leaning over to kiss her on the top of her head. "How could it be? People, including your old boyfriend, keep trying to kill me."

"But in your life, that one thing should have been normal. You should have known that the first person you went to bed with loved you..."

"I did know it."

"But..."

"I'm pretty sure I've loved you since I was eleven. I didn't know what it was then because I had never felt it before in my life but it was love, even if we were just friends. I wouldn't have admitted it then but it was there. I'm sure you felt the same way about me. You weren't in love with me but you did love me, probably more than any other girl I might have gone to bed with for the first time," Harry said and Hermione sighed.

"I still wish I could change it. You asked me what I regretted for myself but I guess that's something I regret for both of us," she said.

"We could go out on a date on our next Hogsmeade trip if that's what you fancy. I just never really thought of you as the type who would want that but we could try starting over again," he suggested and she laughed.

"Pandora's box has been opened, Harry. I don't think we can forget the things we've done together and I wouldn't want to," Hermione said.

"I could cast a memory charm on you," Harry said, pulling his wand out of the pocket of his robes. "Then I could ask you out and we could do it differently."

"What if I said no?"

"I could brew up a love potion..."

"With your marks in Potions? I would never drink it!" she said, laughing now.

"Then I would just have to be me and hope that one day, you'd figure it out. You're a smart girl. You would eventually," Harry said, laughing along with Hermione now. The moment passed and they both sighed. "I wasn't joking, though. If you want to do it right, we can. There will be hand holding and dates in Hogsmeade. Then when the time is right for you, we will... you know."

"You're willing to do this?"

"Are you?" Harry asked, not sure he could go through with it. Besides the fact that he'd miss all the shagging, he also had to work on this problem with Lupin. Would there even be enough time for dates and hand holding?

"I don't know," she said, sounding very cautious. "It's a lot to give up."

"It will be dreadful but I can do it if you can do it."

"I'm sure I can. I know I can since I just gave up several months of being with you. This isn't going to take months, is it?" she asked.

Harry sighed again and looked up at the empty portrait before them. "I don't think we have months."

*******************

"What's up with you two?" Ron asked as he sat down across from Harry and Hermione at breakfast. The room was just starting to fill up with people slowly waking up on a Saturday morning and the three of them were somewhat secluded from the other students. It was the day of the first Hogsmeade visit of the year and the third year students were all buzzing about in conversation, trying to decide what it is they wanted to do first.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"All this hand holding and kissing lately. It's disgusting," Ron said rolling his eyes. Harry looked down at Hermione and his hands, fingers entwined between their plates of sausages and eggs.

"You wouldn't say that if Tullia was sitting next to you," Hermione said pointedly.

"I miss her," Ron said with a dreamy, faraway look on his face. Harry cleared his throat and snapped his friend out of his reverie.

"Someday, Hermione and I will tell you exactly how we ended up together and we'll explain all this," Harry said, holding up their hands for a moment. "Or we'll try to but for now, can you meet us at this afternoon at The Three Broomsticks? We have something we need to talk to you about."

"What?" Ron asked, sitting up straight and leaning towards Harry and Hermione. "Not some new secret group or anything?"

"No, nothing like that. I... we need your help with something and I don't want to talk about it here," Harry said, dropping his voice to a whisper. "What are your plans for today?"

"Ginny's going to meet me to help pick out a birthday present for Tullia. She doesn't think I'm capable of doing it myself. Thinks I'll buy her some awful candy or something. Then we're supposed to meet Shamus and Dean at The Three Broomsticks. I can meet up with you there later," Ron said.

Harry wished they had somewhere less crowded they could go and talk in Hogsmeade but knew that The Hogshead was less reliable than the busy pub all the students gathered at. Anyone could be listening there whereas at The Three Broomsticks, it was mostly students enjoying their butterbeers and having a laugh.

"Hermione and I have somewhere to go first and then we'll meet you there," Harry said. Hermione squeezed his hand with hers and Ron gave them a questioning glance. Harry could feel a blush rise to his cheeks as he muttered, "A date. We're going on a proper date. Now that even the professors know about us, we can do that."

"Good on you! It's about time you showed Hermione the respect she deserves though I don't know if you can call it a proper date if you're going to meet me," Ron said and Harry couldn't tell if he was being serious or not. Hermione didn't help matters by pulling her hand away and continuing with her breakfast.

"It's the only time we have away from Hogwarts. Besides that, after this, it's going to be all schoolwork and Quidditch practice and... oh, bloody hell!" Harry said, grimacing.

"What?" Ron asked, stuffing a piece of toast in his mouth.

"I was supposed to meet with Zoila about some new Quidditch plays and I forgot," Harry said, looking down toward the end of the table to find her there with her other third year friends, chatting away excitedly. It was their first trip in Hogsmeade and she looked like Quidditch was the furthest thing from her mind. At the moment, it barely was even in Harry's thoughts. He had too many other issues to deal with.

"We have a week until the match," Ron said, shrugging it off. One week and it had been months since Harry had been up on his broom. Just thinking about all the things he had to catch up on sent his head spinning.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked, putting her hand over his. He stared down at his plate and hoped the feeling went away.

"Dunno. It gets to be a bit overwhelming at times, having so much to do and having missed so much. There are days I feel like I was gone years and not just a few months," Harry said, looking up to find a concerned Ron staring at him.

"Hermione and I will help you catch up. She can help you with all the boring schoolwork you missed and I can help you practice Quidditch," Ron said.

"Besides that, no one expects you to do it all in one day," Hermione said, giving his hand a gentle pat.

"Except Snape. He probably does," Ron said, stabbing a sausage and putting it on his plate. "But why worry about it today? Go do your date thing and then I'll meet you later. What exactly are the two of you doing for a date?"

"Er-- I, uh, I don't know," Harry said, realizing he really was no good at this part of a relationship.

"Don't worry," Hermione said with a smile. "I have it all planned out."

***************

It wasn't as horrid as the last time Harry was here (only because he was with Hermione) but all the same, it was bad. Madam Puddifoot's would never be Harry's favorite place in Hogsmeade but Hermione was leading the way today and she wanted to go here.

He was no longer threatened by the all the couples around them kissing and holding hands. Actually, he was holding Hermione's hand on top of the table and he noticed some poor fifth year boy glancing their way, looking extremely nervous that the girl across from him might make him hold her hand any second now. What a difference a few years -- and being in love -- made.

"This place is dreadful," Hermione said, looking around at all the frilly decorations.

"You should be here on Valentine's Day. It's worse," Harry said and Hermione's eyes met his.

"I'd rather next Valentine's Day be like last Valentine's Day," she said in a voice that made his cheeks flush. Hermione laughed and asked, "Am I not supposed to talk about those things while we're attempting to go on dates?"

"If you want the dating idea of yours to last longer than one day, perhaps it would be best if you didn't," he answered, wanting to kiss her badly. The nervous boy a few tables over was still sneaking glances toward them so Harry held off on the kissing, sure the boy would suffer some sort of attack if he thought he had to do that next.

"Are you ready to leave?" Hermione asked, turning to look at more couples come through the door.

"I thought you wanted this," Harry said, motioning to all the frills surrounding them.

"I just wanted to see what it was like. I'd rather be forced to serve detention for a month with Snape then be here," Hermione said, wrinkling up her nose. Even though Harry disliked this place, he was hoping that something like this was what Hermione felt they missed out on. Now he was confused. "Besides, Harry, we have far more important things to do. You know that."

"Er -- I just wanted -- do you mean meeting Ron?" Harry asked, not really knowing what to do or say.

"I think that would be a better idea than sitting in here, don't you? We have work to do," Hermione said, pushing her chair out and standing. Harry quickly dug some coins out of his pocket and left them on the table to pay for their unfinished tea and then followed Hermione out the door. They set off towards The Three Broomsticks, not holding hands and not looking like they were on any sort of date at all. Instead, Hermione was listing off things they needed to consider before they went any further on their rescue mission.

"Perhaps we should wait until we're inside. Less people and all," Harry suggested, looking around at all the people who might be listening. Hermione opened the door to The Three Broomsticks and the place was crawling with Hogwarts students. There wasn't an empty table in site. Harry sighed. "Or maybe more people."

"No one will be able to hear us over all the noise," Hermione said, waving to Ron who was holding a table for them near the back.

On their way to the table, they passed Zoila and her third year friends gathered around a table. She glared at Harry and then whispered something to one of her friends. This didn't escape Hermione's notice and she leaned in close and whispered to Harry, "You're in trouble now."

"I think a team meeting might be in order," Harry said, wondering if the entire Gryffindor team (with the exception of Ron) was upset or just the ones he forgot to meet with.

Ron had two butterbeers waiting for them at the table and after sitting next to Hermione, Harry took a long sip, rinsing the taste of Madam Puddifoot's from his mouth. Ron gave them an awkward look before starting in with questions about the so called date they were on.

Hermione shrugged off his questions and looked at Harry. "Do you want to tell him?"

"Tell me what?" Ron asked.

"I don't know what," Harry said, still looking at Hermione. Did she want him to explain how awful Madam Puddifoot's had been?

"About the rescue mission," Hermione said, turning her attention to Ron. "We're planning a rescue mission."

"Another one?" Ron asked, cringing. He was obviously remembering the last few rescue missions with distaste.

"Just because the last one failed..." Harry started to say, staring down at his butterbeer.

"What do you mean? The last one got you back, didn't it?" Ron asked and Harry looked up at his friend.

"I meant before," Harry said and Ron nodded and the two of them remained silent while the other students all buzzed around them.

"Harry wants to try to get Lupin out of there -- wherever there might be," Hermione said and Ron looked from one to the other.

"All right. When do we go in?" he said without giving it much thought.

"We're not going in. I'm going in," Harry said, motioning to himself.

"You aren't going anywhere alone!" Hermione said and Ron quickly agreed.

"Someone is going to have to stay on the outside in case something happens," Harry said and Ron sat back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest, sulking.

"A rescue mission for the rescue mission?" Hermione said and Harry closed his eyes. They had so much to consider in order to avoid any fiascos like in the past. Upon opening his eyes he found Ron still sulking.

"What's wrong with you?" Harry asked.

"Obviously, you're going to pick Hermione to go with you," Ron said, a jealous tone Harry hoped was long gone intruding into his voice.

"Once we have more plans in order, I'll figure out which one of you will be the best choice to come along," Harry said and now Hermione sat back in her chair with a huff.

"Or we could talk to Ginny and then the three of us can go," Ron said, smiling brightly at his idea. He grabbed his butterbeer and took a giant sip. Hermione didn't make a move.

"Or we could do that," Harry said, happy that for now, Ron was done pouting.

"What exactly are the plans?" Ron asked and Harry looked to Hermione, hoping that explaining what they had already considered would be enough to make her stop moping.

Hermione shifted in her seat and pulled some notes out of a pocket of her robes. She put them all on the table and even Harry was impressed by the effort she had put into this since they first discussed it.

"It's not going to be easy," Hermione said with a sigh.

Ron nodded, making a face at how complex Hermione's notes were. "It never is going to be easy, is it?" he asked.

"I'm afraid not," was Harry's only reply.

*************

"This dating thing isn't going to work out," Harry said bluntly and Hermione looked confused for just a second or two.

"Obviously!" she said, wrapping her legs even tighter around Harry's waist. Hermione's jeans, jumper and undergarments were abandoned somewhere near her door and she was balanced on one of the window sills in her room. Harry's hands were pressed against the cold glass and he couldn't imagine how she could stand it against her entire back but she wasn't complaining.

"It seemed so important to you," he said, struggling to focus on his thoughts and words and her body wrapped around his all at the same time.

"Giving this up was bloody stupid. It certainly wasn't one of my better ideas," she said, her fingers digging into his upper arms.

"No, but coming back here was. Oh... yes..." Harry said as Hermione slid closer to him, allowing him to sink in even further. Harry started thrusting faster and her hands went from his arms to the edge of the stone sill to hold on.

The taste of her was still on his lips and the room was scented of both of them now. The air was heavy with the smell of sweat despite what the temperature was on the other side of the cold glass and Harry's eyes moved from Hermione's to over her shoulder. If he continued to look at her, this would end too soon. Instead, he tried to focus on a blurry landmark outside the castle and think about Quidditch.

All that did was make him think about the time they did it right before he had a Quidditch match and that didn't help much. Hermione let out a soft, low moan and now there was no helping him. A few more thrusts and he was done.

Light exploded through the window around Hermione, haloing her in a soft glow, and Harry came inside of her. His hands slid down the window panes until they ended up on her shoulders and when he was done, she pulled him to her.

"This is one of the best parts of dating you. I don't think I should consider giving it up again. I should have learned my lesson the first time I tried to give it up. Or the second time when you were gone and I had to give it up. I'm not doing it again," she whispered into his ear and he couldn't stop smiling.

He lifted her and she held on tight as they stumbled across the floor to her bed. Tumbling onto the bed, their arms and legs were tangled up but neither of them cared. Harry sighed, utterly content at the moment and Hermione yawned drowsily.

"If we take a nap, will you still be here when I wake?" she asked.

"You don't have time for a nap. We'll miss dinner and we told Ron we'd meet him there," Harry said, the warmth of the room and Hermione beside him making him a little drowsy, too.

"That was a foolish thing to do," Hermione said, pulling herself away from him long enough to tug a quilt over their bodies. Harry realized then that they were going to be late in meeting Ron. Very late.

"We should at least meet him in the common room after dinner," Harry said and Hermione mumbled something he couldn't make out but might have been a yes. "Actually, we shouldn't discuss anything there. Perhaps the Room of Requirement? Do you think that will be safe?"

"Don't know, Harry. I thought the library at home was safe and look what happened there," she said, making a good point.

"We have to discuss our plans somewhere. We can't wait until the next Hogsmeade outing. How about in here? Can Ron sneak in here, too?" Harry asked and Hermione thought about it for a while.

"Won't people talk?"

"About what? No one even knows I'm in here. We certainly won't let them see both of us... you weren't being serious, were you?" Harry asked after Hermione took the time to open her eyes so she could roll them at him.

"No, I wasn't. I don't think people even notice what we do anymore. Or maybe they stay away from us out of fright," Hermione said and they both laughed. Harry propped himself up on an elbow so he could look at Hermione. 

"I'm not even sure this room is safe. I'm not sure there's a single safe place anymore. They'll reach us wherever we go," Harry said gloomily. "Maybe I'm just being paranoid."

"True. And you of all people have no reason to be paranoid. No one is ever out to get you," Hermione said, smirking. 

"I know you're out to get me," Harry said

"Of course I am out to get you. Especially if I can get you naked in my bed every night," Hermione said, touching Harry's chest and moving down.

Before she could get very far, he grabbed Hermione and pulled her until she was straddling his hips. Somehow it turned into a tickling match until they were tangled up in the quilt, laughing hard.

"I wonder who Malfoy sneaks into his room?" Hermione asked when the laugher died down and Harry groaned. 

"I still can't believe Malfoy is Head Boy. What was Dumbledore thinking?" Harry asked, flopping his head down onto a pillow. "He could have at least picked Ron."

"I don't know what he was thinking, Harry. Maybe he hopes..."

"Hopes he won't turn out like his father? I don't think there's much hope in that. And the thought of some girl wanting to do this with that git... makes me shudder," Harry said, giving an exaggerated shake. 

"Crabbe and Goyle then?" Hermione asked and they laughed again. 

"Thank you very much for putting that image in my head. Now I'll never get any sleep."

"That's good because we really need to go find Ron. As much as I'd like to hide away up here forever, we have to get up," Hermione said, pulling the sheets and blankets from off of Harry. He pulled them right back over him.

"Do we have to?" Harry protested.

"You were the one reminding me that we have to meet Ron just a minute ago."

"I changed my mind."

"This rescue mission was your idea, Harry. Are you changing your mind about that?" Hermione asked and Harry sighed. 

"No."

"Not long ago, you would have run off already..."

"Not long ago I had so much less to lose," Harry said thoughtfully. "But you're right. We can't leave Lupin there much longer. I have to figure out how to get him back."

"We have to figure it out, Harry. And we will."

******************

Harry and Hermione rushed down the corridor, Hermione reading as quickly as possible the Owl that they had just received from St. Mungo's in reply to one they sent out from Hogsmeade the other day. 

"Mrs. Rowntree is still incapacitated, Harry. They won't even forward a letter to her," Hermione said, her voice filled with disappointment. 

"She can't possibly be the only person who can answer our questions," Harry said. Due to the amount of homework he had to catch up on from when he was gone, they were going to be late for dinner. Hermione was helping him get through it all but the work seemed harder than ever. He was finding it hard to concentrate on his work when his mind was on so many other things. 

"You and I have both been through every book about the artwork here in Hogwarts. I have written to wizards who are experts in this field and they don't know. As far as they're concerned, that piece of art doesn't even exist and have no idea why it's even listed in that one book. Someone could have put it there. That's the problem with all this magic -- you never know what's real and what's not," Hermione said with a sigh. Harry pulled open the doors to the Great Hall and they were greeted with the boisterous noise of four houses all convening for dinner. 

"The good thing about magic is it can't be that hard to find out of it's real or not," Harry retorted and they made their way to the Gryffindor table, finding Ron and Ginny waving to them. 

"Where were you two? Never mind. I don't want to know," Ron said, rolling his eyes. 

"For your information, we were studying. Harry is still trying to catch up and since he doesn't seem to care about Potions anymore, it hasn't been easy," Hermione said, reaching for some pumpkin juice and pouring it in her cup. 

"I care. It's just I care about other things more," Harry said, serving himself some steak and kidney pie. They had filled Ginny in on their plans earlier and she was all ready to go in to get Lupin that very day. 

"When are we meeting again?" Ginny asked, her voice so low that she was hard to hear. They had been getting together in Hermione's room and so far no one had noticed. Hermione had spent hours placing various protection and silencing charms in her room in order to make it secure for their planning sessions. Harry was thankful his girlfriend was Head Girl for so many reasons. 

"Harry has more studying to do tonight," Hermione said.

"And we have Quidditch practice tomorrow night," Ron added. 

"So I guess that means Thursday?" Ginny asked. She seemed rather excited to be involved with the rescue mission. 

"Thursday will work."

"Same time?"

"Yes, just try to be more stealthy about it this time, Ron. We don't want to alert all of Hogwarts that Hermione has the 'Rescue Lupin Club' going on in her room," Harry said and Ron blushed and Ginny laughed. Hermione had instructed Ron on how to make it so the stairs to her room thought he was a girl but he forgot to use the proper spell before he headed up there. They all had to lie about why the alarm was blaring at midnight but after the noise stopped, most people just muttered something about going back to sleep, not even concerned about the cause. 

"How come the stairs never give you any trouble?" Ron asked Harry. 

"Oh, I made him a girl permanently," Hermione said with a big grin. Now Harry blushed and Ron laughed. 

"And here I thought you liked boys," Ginny said.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "They're okay."

"Hey!" Harry said, playfully punching Hermione on the arm. They all laughed and Harry looked at Hermione, enjoying her smile. So this is what normal is like, he thought. And he liked it even though he knew it couldn't last.

**************

Harry could barely keep his eyes open and he realized that he had been staring at the same page of his charms book for the past two hours. At least Professor McGonagall was being reasonable about the amount of time it would take for him to make up all his missed assignments unlike Professor Snape who wanted them done immediately. But it was still a lot of work trying to keep up with the present assignments and finish up the older ones. 

It was so late that even Hermione had already left him behind in the library to go to bed, having helped him as much as she could for one evening and also finish the large Arithmancy assignment she had due in the morning. 

Harry yawned and packed up his books, unsure of how he was going to stay awake long enough to get back to Gryffindor Tower. Madam Pince came out of nowhere to gather up the library books that were at his table, tutting about the fact that he had been using one of his quills as a bookmark. 

"I believe this is yours," she said.

"Oh, right. Thank you," he said, taking it from her and putting it in his book bag. His hand brushed up against all the letters Hermione and he had received from more wizards and witches who were knowledgeable about art and he sighed. It was a big dead end. 

"Good night to you, Mr. Potter," Madam Pince said, nodding toward the door. Harry was the last student left in the library. 

"G'night," he mumbled, leaving the library behind. He hadn't gone very far when he heard someone calling his name and he turned around, expecting it to be Madam Pince telling him he forgot something. Instead he found no one in the corridor with him. 

"Who's there?" he called out. 

"Over here, Harry. I'm over here," he heard a voice say and it was vaguely familiar and he wasn't sure in a good or a bad way. Still looking around his eyes finally settled on a portrait in a shadowy recess. Something was motioning for him to come in that direction. 

He did, slowly pulling his wand out of his back pocket and holding it by his side. 

"What do you want?" Harry said, approaching cautiously, wand at the ready. 

"Here I am. Don't you remember me, Harry?" the voice from the portrait asked and Harry got in close enough to see the face from his dreams lurking in the corner of a huge painting. "And put your wand away. You don't need that thing."

"It's you!" he said, moving in even closer and putting his wand back into his pocket. "You're the girl who I met inside of... wherever I was. You're her."

"So you do remember?" she asked quietly, looking behind her to see if she woke the old witch snoozing in the center of portrait. 

"Not much. I thought that was the idea," Harry said, drawn in by the girl's eyes. 

"That wasn't my idea. You have to believe me, Harry. I didn't want that to happen to you," she said, putting her hand out so it looked like she was reaching for him. 

"Lupin? How is Lupin... do you even know?" Harry asked and the expression on her face fell flat. 

"He needs you, Harry. We all do. You've got to come back in," she said, pleading now. 

"I don't know how. I've been trying to figure it out with Hermione and we don't know how to get back in," Harry said, no longer feeling tired. Instead, his heart was pounding hard in his chest. 

"Hermione?" she asked and Harry was puzzled. Surely he had told her about Hermione?

"Yes, Hermione has been helping me along with Ron and Ginny," Harry said and now she looked very disappointed. He tried to shake the feeling that he had done something wrong but couldn't quite manage it. "How do I get back in?"

"Come to the room with the painting... you know which one. Come there now and I'll get you in," she said and Harry took a step back. 

"I can't without Hermione. Let me go get her and I'll --"

"No! You have to come now!" she demanded, frowning at him. 

"I won't go anywhere without telling Hermione first. I couldn't do that to her," Harry said and now the girl in the portrait was glowering at him, her eyes two different colors as if the artist ran out of a particular shade of blue. "I don't even know your name."

"Ella."

"Ella?"

"Yes. You will have to hurry, Harry. I can't safely stay here much longer and opening that portal isn't that easy. You have to come now..."

"Let me get Hermione and I'll be there," Harry said but the girl continued to scowl. "I'll have it no other way."

"Fine! Get her. She might be of some use to us yet," Ella said, crossing her painted arms before her. 

"I'll be there. Don't you worry about that. I'll be there as soon as possible!" Harry said as he turned and ran down the corridor to find Hermione. 

*****************

"How can you trust her? Do you even know who she is?" Hermione asked, tugging her robes on as Harry lead her down the stairs towards the common room. She was struggling with her robes and her bag of books she insisted on bringing along and Harry wished she would move faster.

"She said her name is... Ellie? Ella? I don't remember what she said but she's the one," Harry said and Hermione fell silent as she came to a stop. 

"We have to tell Ron --"

"I don't know if there's time, Hermione," Harry said.

"Don't you ever learn! We're going to tell someone what's happening. Ginny and Ron have been in on this for days now and we have to tell them. Ron should come with us -- we could use his help once we get there. Ginny can stay here and if something goes wrong, she can get help," Hermione said and Harry stopped pulling her along. 

"Fine. I'll get Ron and you get Ginny. Meet in the common room in five minutes," Harry said, heading in the direction of the his dormitory. A while ago he had every intention of returning here to sleep but now he knew that wasn't going to happen tonight. 

He shook his friend and then placed his hand over Ron's mouth before he could cry out or wake anyone else. "Ron, it's me," Harry said quietly. 

"What do you want? What time is?" Ron muttered.

"You have to get up and get dressed. We have an opportunity to rescue Lupin and we have to take it now," Harry said and Ron blinked with confusion. 

"Are we ready for that? I mean, what about the plans?" Ron asked and Harry rolled his eyes. He didn't need another Hermione at the moment.

"We don't have a choice! Lupin has been in there long enough. Hurry!" Harry said, throwing Ron's clothes onto the bed and pulling out his hand me down robes and thrusting them in his direction. "Don't forget your wand and bring your broom just in case. I'll meet you in the common room."

Harry grabbed his Firebolt and the invisibility cloak and rushed down the stairs to find Hermione in a rather heated discussion with Ginny. 

"I'm not staying behind," Ginny said, her arms crossed over her chest defiantly. 

"You have to," Harry said before Hermione could get another word out. "If something happens to us, you'll be the only one to know where we've gone. We need you, Ginny."

"Why don't you wake up Neville and tell him? He can stay here and then I can go --"

"If we wake up Neville, then he'll want to go, too. I don't even know if Ron will be able to come along. If not, the two of you can --"

"I bloody better be able to go with!" Ron said as he entered the deserted common room, his broom in hand. "If this is like any of our other so called rescue missions, you're going to need all the help you can get."

"That's what I've been trying to tell them but they won't let me go with," Ginny said forcefully.

"I already explained it to you, Ginny. Someone has to stay here in case we don't come back. Here is everything Harry and I learned about the spell to get into the portal," Hermione said, handing Ginny one tiny scroll that barely had anything on it. 

"But don't you use that to follow us," Ron said, taking it from his sister's hand and looking it over. His brow furrowed. "Not that this will be of much use."

"I still don't understand --" Ginny started to say but one look from Ron let her know it was a losing argument for now. "How long should I give you?"

"I'm assuming if this Ellie-Ella person can get us in, she can get us out?" Hermione asked and Harry shrugged. He had no idea what the girl from the painting could and could not do because he couldn't remember her. Hermione sighed and went on. "It shouldn't take that long."

"Who do you want me to go to?" Ginny asked. No one said a word as they all thought about it. No matter who Ginny told, they would be in trouble. 

"Talk to Hagrid first. He'll know what to do," Ron finally suggested. 

"Right. Hagrid," Harry said, unsure of whether anyone would really know what to do. 

"I'm going with you--" Ginny started to say but didn't get the chance to finish her sentence. 

"No!" three voices said at once. 

"What I was going to say is I'm going with you to wherever it is you're supposed to go so I know what's happening. No need to shout at me," Ginny said and Harry and the others looked rather sheepish. 

"We better go before we lose this opportunity," Harry said and they all looked nervously at each other before he unfolded the invisibility cloak with a flourish and the four friends huddled in close. No one spoke as they made their way through the portrait hole and down the stairs except for when Ron stepped on Ginny's toes and she punched him in the arm. Hermione hushed them and Harry looked around to make sure they didn't attract the attention of Mrs. Norris. 

They slipped into the room and shed the cloak, Ginny quickly telling Ron off for her injured foot. 

"Shush! We can still be heard in here!" Harry said and they fell silent. He walked cautiously, broom in one hand and invisibility cloak over his other arm, to the painting, waiting to be stopped by the barrier that had been in place just a few days earlier. It was no longer there. He reached out to the touch the canvas but Hermione pulled him back. 

"Harry, wait. Don't you think we should consider this more carefully? How much do you really know about this girl from the painting?" Hermione asked and now Harry's cautiousness was replaced by frustration. 

"Not much but I know she was in there with me the whole time. I don't know how, but I know she helped me. I can't explain it," Harry said and Ron cocked an eyebrow at him. 

"I don't want to walk into a trap no one can get us out of," he said and Harry nodded. 

"We've come quite far in our abilities since then. We know what we might be getting into. I don't think it will be the same," Harry said and Ginny crossed her arms and made a 'tsking' sound. "What?"

"A rescue mission for someone who may or may not need rescuing where you're going into a place you vaguely remember. How do you remember it, Harry? From your dreams? I don't know about you but this is becoming rather familiar," Ginny said and Harry opened his mouth to protest but Hermione gave him a gentle push. 

"Either we're doing this now or we're all walking away," Ron said and he and Ginny began to argue about the intelligence of taking on this mission. 

"You're just upset we won't let you go!" he said to his sister and she bantered right back with him. Hermione used this opportunity to pull Harry aside. 

"Are you sure?" she asked him, holding his free hand in hers. 

"I have to do something. She said to meet in here and she'd help. Lupin has done so much for us and we can't just leave him there," Harry said softly to her while Ron and Ginny bickered on. 

"I understand you mean well..."

"You don't have to go if you don't want to. I'll understand, Hermione. I know that school is important to you and you have your studies and you don't have to do this just because you're my girlfriend now," Harry said.

"There's no way you're going on your own!" Hermione said rather loudly. It stopped Ron and Ginny's argument for a moment but then they started again. 

"Ron will go with. I won't be on my own," Harry said and Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. 

"What I mean is I'm not letting you out of my sight again. I won't do it. Wherever you go, I'll follow," she said and Harry fought the urge to kiss her hard on the lips right then and there. Before he had a chance, he heard Ron calling for him. 

"You tell her, Harry. Someone has to stay behind if for no other reason than to be Quidditch captain. Tell her she can be the team captain," Ron said, pleading now and pointing the end of his broomstick at his sister.

"You just don't want me to have any fun," Ginny said with a pout.

"No, I don't want you to get killed. Mum would never forgive me if her one and only daughter died while in my care" Ron said. 

"Ginny, you have to stay behind. We need you here," Harry said, taking matters into his own hands. Before he had the chance to tell her that she could indeed be Quidditch captain if that's what it took to make her stay behind, he heard a familiar voice coming from the painting. 

"Who are all these people, Harry? I thought you said you were just bringing... what's her name again?"

They all turned to face the ugly brown piece of art and Harry expected to see the girl standing there inside the frame but there was no one. 

"Ellie?" he asked, walking closer to it. Hermione grasped his hand and wouldn't let go. 

"It's Ella. I told you that already," she said, a pout discernible in her voice. 

"I'm sorry, Ella," Harry said, moving even closer though Hermione was pulling against him now. He gave her a tug until she was standing by his side. "This is Hermione."

Hermione waved at nothing considering there was no visible person in the painting and now Ron stepped up until he was standing beside them, leaving Ginny sulking in her spot. 

"I'm Ron," Ron said and he nodded his head in the direction of his sister. "And this is Ginny. She's mad that Harry won't let her come with."

"Don't blame Harry," Ginny said and with that, they all waited for a reply. 

"You said you were just bringing Herm-inn-enone," the voice said. 

"Hermione," Hermione clarified but the voice didn't repeat it again. "Does it matter who comes with? It's our friend we're trying to save."

"It doesn't matter to me," Ella said and Harry waited for her to step into view but she didn't. His stomach was being to churn with anticipation and worry. This painting was like the one at the Muggle library -- the one who took him away from Hermione. At least this time, she would be going with him. 

"What do we have to do, Ella?" Harry asked, trying hard to remember how this worked the last time. 

"I already did the hard part for you and removed that barrier. If that's the best the people teaching here now can come up with, I feel sorry for the lot of you," she said. 

"She's not haughty at all, is she?" Hermione whispered into Harry's ear and he shrugged his shoulders. 

"What do we do next?" he asked. 

"Touch the canvas," she said and now it grew even more familiar to Harry. Drew pushed him and he touched the painting and that's what started it all. Harry reached out but before he could get near the canvas, Ella stopped him. "I would suggest you all hold hands or figure out how to touch the painting at the exact same moment."

Harry was still holding onto Hermione's hand and Ron wiped his hand on his robes before he took Hermione's other hand. 

"Ginny, if we aren't back in a few days, you know what to do, right?" Harry asked and Ginny nodded, looking rather disappointed to be left behind. "Now what?"

"Touch the painting."

Harry handed his broom to Ron, who fumbled around with two broomsticks before clasping them securely against his body. With that, Harry took a step toward the painting and touched it. A bolt of energy surged through his body and down his other arm to where he was holding Hermione's hand -- so much energy that it was hard to hold on tight but there was no way he was letting go. Then it felt like they were being pulled into a vortex. It was so much stronger than anything he remembered and somehow he knew it hadn't been like this the last time this happened. He could feel Hermione's fingernails digging into his palm as she struggled to hold on and then he heard her shout out but he didn't know what for. Then, when he was sure he could hold on no longer, they landed somewhere horribly bright.

"I remember," was all he said as he struggled to look around, his eyes not adjusting to the all the light. He moaned loudly and shaded his eyes, waiting for the pain to come but it didn't. "Hermione... Ron... I remember. Oh... no..."

****************

To Be Continued


	11. Chapter 11

"I remember," Harry said as he struggled to get his bearings. The blazing light nearly blinded him and there was no escape from it. He shaded his eyes and waited for the intense pain he had felt the last time he had been here to hit him in his gut but it didn't. It was then that he felt Hermione double over beside him, moaning loudly. 

"Harry, what's happening?" Hermione asked in a feeble voice. 

"I can't tell you everything now. We have to move. We have to go now!" Harry said, still clutching Hermione's hand tightly. "I know you feel sick but we have to move. Er... Hermione? Where's Ron? What happened to Ron?"

"I couldn't hold on, Harry. He slipped away from me," Hermione said pulling her hand from Harry's. She stared at her fingertips as if that would bring Ron back to them but a wave of sickness passed over her and she had to clutch her stomach. Harry sank to his knees beside her and watched his girlfriend get sick. He fought the urge to turn away but instead helped her tuck her hair out of the way as the sickness rolled over her again and again.

"We have to get out of here, Hermione. We have to run," he said, looking away from her and trying to make anything out in the light. 

"But what about Ron? Is he nearby?" Hermione asked. Harry couldn't see his friend anywhere. 

"I don't see him. Can you get up?"

"I can't. I can't move," she said, turning to look at him. Tears were streaming down her face and he did his best to wipe them away. He still had his invisibility cloak with him and he hoped that it worked in here because they were going to need it if Hermione didn't start feeling better quickly. "Why aren't you sick?" 

"I haven't a clue. Maybe because I was here for so long already. I felt just like you did my first time here," Harry said, looking around to see if they were still alone. There was no one around but he knew that wouldn't last for long. Ella would be back and Harry worried about who she might bring with her. "Did Ron slip away when we were still in that vortex or after?"

"I don't know," Hermione answered and now the tears started up again. "I tried to hold on, Harry. It was like he was sucked away from me."

"We'll find him but right now, we have to go," Harry said and Hermione started to protest again. "I'll carry you if I have to. I've done it before."

"You can't get very far with me," Hermione said. Harry was still searching the area but no longer for Ron. He needed to be able to get her somewhere safe until the sickness passed. 

"I could carry you forever if I had to," Harry said, smoothing Hermione's hair away from her face. She looked horrible and he was sorry he had dragged her into this. If he had only remembered. There was no use in worrying about that now. What was done was done. He picked her up as gently as he could and she wrapped her arms around his neck, her face pressed to his chest as she held on tight. He faltered a little but managed to get them both under the invisibility cloak before stumbling in the direction of a thick forest.

"Where are we?" Hermione asked and Harry shook his head. 

"Don't know." He really had no idea where they might be. All the paintings fit together seamlessly without being divided by frames like from the outside. It was an amazing world but still an unrecognizable one to him. He did know that without any warning, they could slip into another painting and it might not be as agreeable as this one.

"Where are we going?" she asked, struggling to turn her head in the direction Harry was moving. 

"We have to get away from here so we can figure out what to do. It's going to be a while before your stomach feels better and I need to think about how we're going to find Ron and Lupin," Harry said, not telling her the entire story yet. She was going through enough already. 

"Put me down! You have to put me down now!" Hermione said, pushing out of his arms. They both toppled to the ground and she was sick again. At least when they were surrounded by the trees, the light was cut in half and he could see. Too bad the only things to see were Hermione vomiting and more oily, painted trees. 

"Are you okay?" Harry asked after she stopped. She came to sit beside him against a tree and he pulled the cloak over them again. She was shivering, her body shaking beside his, and guilt began to overwhelm him. 

"Not really," she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She smelled horrible but Harry knew it wasn't her fault. No, this was entirely his fault. If only he had remembered any of this before they went leaping through the painting. If only he thought things through before taking action. 

"We can rest for a few minutes but we have to move again soon," Harry said, pulling Hermione to his side. He could feel how exhausted she was as she fell limp against him. 

"What are we running from?" Hermione asked, her voice raspy now. 

"We're running from people like Elladora Black," Harry said and it took a minute for Hermione to recognize the name. 

"Ella... the girl in your dreams... is part of the Black family?" Hermione asked. 

"Elladora Black. Remember all the house elf heads hanging on the wall at Grimmauld Place?" Harry asked. Hermione's eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open. "Elladora Black started that tradition. That girl... the girl I've been seeing in my dreams and who told me to come back here is a portrait from when she was young."

"And you didn't remember this from the first time you were here?" Hermione asked in disbelief. 

"No," Harry said angrily, frustrated with himself to no end. "It gets worse."

Hermione closed her eyes, shaking her head. "How is that possible? Ron's gone and you're carrying me through a forest while I can't stop ... ugh..."

"You think Elladora is the only one with a portrait?" Harry asked. 

"But, Harry, they're just that... just portraits. How can they hurt us?" Hermione asked. 

"Do you think we're the only humans in here?" 

"You mean there are more people here besides Lupin and Ron? Why?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes and trying to think it through. Harry didn't have to answer before she came to the reason herself. "To trap you."

"That's why Lupin got me out. He stayed behind to make sure they stayed in here and... and... bloody hell! What have I done?" Harry asked in anger. Hermione placed her hand on his arm and leaned closer to him. 

"You did what you always do, Harry. You tried to help a friend," she said. 

"I always have to be the hero," he said softly, remembering a time not that long ago. "I always have to run off and save someone."

"Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it has nothing to do with being a hero. Maybe it just has to do with how much you love people. I know that now that we're... you know what I mean. Anyway..." Hermione said, her voice trailing off. 

Harry expected a big lecture from her about how they should have planned this more carefully but the lecture never came. Instead, she curled up in his arms and she began to fall asleep. He should rouse her and they should keep moving but in the state she was in, they'd never make it far. They'd have to set out when she was feeling better. 

***************

Harry struggled to stay awake. Hermione was sleeping restlessly with her head on his lap and he smoothed his hand over her hair, trying to comfort her whenever she moaned out and held onto her stomach. He fought off sleeping for as long as he could, his wand ready at his side in case someone found them, but soon his eyes couldn't take it anymore. He was exhausted and dreams swept over him and pulled him under...

He was painting and Dudley kept making fun of his work. No matter how realistic it looked, his cousin still mocked him, telling him he'd never escape. Harry smashed up painting after painting but he couldn't get away from his cousin's laughter. 

Harry painted a world of scarlet and gold; a world of warm fires and comfortable chairs. Dudley kept up the taunting and finally, when the painting was finished, Harry said the right words and disappeared into his perfect world. There, no one would laugh at him...

Except, someone was laughing.

"What is it, Harry?" Hermione asked, stirring him from his sleep. "Sounds like a hyena... or a Northern Muldavian Mockfly."

"A what?" Harry asked, sitting up straight and holding his wand tight in his fingers. 

"I invented it years ago. When I was seven, I painted one and Mum hung it up. I assume that's how this works? Someone paints something and it can show up here?" Hermione asked. 

"So, would you rather face a mockfly or a hyena?" Harry asked. Whatever made the noise was silent now and that worried Harry more. At least when he could hear it, he knew where it was. 

"Mockflies were two meters high and had fangs. I hope there aren't any in here," Hermione said. 

"So do I." 

They both listened for more sounds but this world was unnaturally quiet. There was no wind moving through the trees and the sky above them was seemingly endless. Harry remembered being in a forest the first time he was here but how would he ever know if this was the same forest? 

"The people in the portraits can move around with relative ease and speed. There must be some path behind the... walls? The frames? There must be a path that allows it to happen," Hermione said and Harry could sense that she was trying to work this out. 

"There are paths and they can pop in and out at will. Humans need to find a portal and hope it's opened," Harry said and Hermione nodded, still thinking. 

"Obviously, Lupin knew how to do that or he figured out how to do that and he got you back to Hogwarts. Don't you remember how, Harry?" 

Harry thought about it, but as much as he now remembered, the exact words that opened up their way out were lost to him. Or else he couldn't remember something he never knew. 

"We need to find Lupin," Harry said, and Hermione agreed. "Can you walk now? Are you feeling better?"

"I think I can. I really could use some water?" Hermione asked, rubbing her throat. Her voice was more hoarse than before.

"We'll have to conjure up something to drink as soon as we can stop longer," Harry said, the invisibility cloak slipping from him when he stood up. It puddled onto Hermione's lap and she closed her eyes momentarily and took a deep breath. Harry put out his hand to her and she took it, struggling to her feet. He picked up the cloak and covered them up. It wasn't going to be easy to move around like this but he didn't want to risk being seen by the wrong people. People who might know exactly where the portal from Hogwarts would bring him. 

"Do you know how big this place is?" Hermione asked. 

"No."

"Any idea in which direction we might find Lupin?" 

"No."

"So, we're going to wander around blindly until we stumble into something... or someone?" Hermione asked and now Harry knew that the lecture was coming for sure. All he could do was ride it out. 

*************

The forest seemed to be endless... or else they were walking in circles. He was sure he had seen the tree-covered hill they were approaching once or twice before but Hermione was positive that it was the first time they had come upon it. 

"Perhaps if we go to the top of it, we'll be able to see further," Hermione suggested halfheartedly. They were both growing tired and finally gave up trying to stay under the invisibility cloak, emerging covered in sweat. Harry smiled at the memory of things they had done under this cloak but the thought was fleeting. That world -- the real world -- seemed so far away now. And so much smaller than this one. 

"Will you be able to make it?" Harry asked. 

"If we take a break at the top, I should be able to. I'll conjure up a drink as soon as we stop," Hermione said, taking in a deep breath as they walked onwards. 

Water sounded good. They hadn't even passed any painted, oily water since they got here. The artist who made this part of the painting certainly lacked imagination or else couldn't paint water. Just trees. More and more trees. 

Hermione babbled on about one theory and then the next as they climbed, her mind racing though all the ways this world could be opened up again. Her voice was nearly gone when they reached the top and she had just begun talking about where they should begin looking for Ron. 

"He could be at Hogwarts for all we know, Hermione," Harry said, stopping now to look over the vast landscape. She gasped, turning around to look at everything from all directions. 

"Naturally, we would assume that this world would curve like our own. The horizon would fade off and disappear and we'd never catch up to it. We could keep walking and walking but here... it's flat," Hermione said. "Do you know what kind of essay I could turn in about this place? Never mind that. We could map this place and study it. We could--"

"Get caught by Voldemort and murdered where we're standing," Harry added and she stopped talking. They hadn't mentioned it before but Harry wouldn't be surprised if he was somehow behind this. If this wasn't his planning, then he surely knew by now about Harry's first trip into here. He would have been an easy target and now he was back and he had brought another target with him. He couldn't believe how stupid he was. 

"What's that over there?" she asked after they looked around in silence for several minutes. Off in the distance, an inky curl of smoke made its way toward the endless sky. If he squinted and blocked the light from his eyes, Harry could make out a small village. 

"We can go in that direction and see if we can find a place to rest until you're feeling better. We can't stay in one place too long, though," Harry said, taking Hermione's hand and helping her down the sloping hill. 

"How do we get to another painting? So far, we've been inside this one the whole time we've been here. Where is the next one?" Hermione asked. 

"It will just happen. You'll take a step and all of a sudden, there you are. That's one of the reasons this would be impossible to map," Harry said as they wove their way through the trees. 

"Not impossible, just difficult. Nothing is impossible, Harry."

"Passing Potions this year after all that classes I've missed.... that's impossible," Harry said and for the first time in hours, he heard Hermione laugh a little. 

"You know I'll help you. I always do."

"That won't be very easy for you to do if we never get out of here. You won't make very high marks either if you aren't there," Harry teased and Hermione's expression fell flat. 

"I'm sure we'll be allowed to make up our work once we find Lupin and get out of here. We always have been in the past," she said, suddenly more thoughtful than before. 

"Hermione, you are the most talented witch to pass through Hogwarts' doors in ages. I'm sure you will do just fine. I'm the one who has now missed most of this term," Harry said, sighing. 

"We'll both have to catch up together," Hermione said. "But first, we have to get back to Hogwarts since you didn't give me enough time to gather up my books."

Hermione was serious about her books and Harry was amused by her and her need to study even in the most desperate of situations.

"The good news is I have my wand. At least this time, I'm prepared," he said. Only, he wasn't quite sure for what he had to be prepared. 

***************

It was a fairly small village; just a few rustic houses around a central fountain from which cobalt colored 'water' flowed. Harry was pleased that there were no inhabitants because he wasn't ready to explain how he and Hermione had arrived at this place. For now, all he wanted to do was rest and consider what they were going to do next. 

They chose an abandoned looking house and Harry pushed the creaky door open, his wand before him as he took Hermione by the hand. Her eyes were still adjusting to the changing brightness and he didn't want her to stumble over anything. 

Dust danced around their feet and filled the air, making Harry cough. Hermione didn't seem to notice as she continued chatting away about how all this needed to be documented and studied and how it was simply amazing. Harry had felt the same way the first time he was trapped in this place but now he'd rather settle for a different kind of amazing. More of a Hogwarts kind of amazing. Too bad he didn't think of that before rushing back here. 

"Here, have a seat. I'm going to look around. Don't wander anywhere, Hermione. There's always the chance of slipping into another painting. I'd never find you back," Harry said. Hermione sat down on a couch that might have been red at one time a plume of dust flew up around her, making her cough. 

"What about you? What if you slip into another painting?" she asked, sounding rather concerned. 

"I won't," he said, trying to reassure her of something he wasn't completely positive wouldn't happen. He knew all too well how it worked and was just a little surprised they hadn't slipped from this place already. 

"Harry? Please stay," Hermione said, reaching out her hand to him. 

"Hermione..." he started to protest but she patted her other hand on the cushion beside her and a cloud of dust rose up in the spot. 

"Stay," she said one more time and he did, sitting down next to her. "This world is amazing."

"Yeah," Harry said, clearly not as amazed as she was. 

"Why is one thing dusty while the next thing is wet? Is it because of the artist's imagination? How could he think of everything like the details inside a house that one can't see on the canvas? It's just fascinating," she said, carrying on more and more. 

"Is this why you wanted me to stay? So we could discuss this place?" Harry asked, aggravated. He knew about this place and the dangers that could be found just around the next corner. 

"No. Well, yes. I can't believe someone like Drew could comprehend this place so well," Hermione said and Harry let out a heavy sigh. 

"He had his father's help. Come to think of it, he had his father's help for a lot of things. I'm sure we're bound to run into them sooner or later since this is where I last saw them," Harry said. Hermione wrinkled up her nose at the thought. 

"We will have to figure out what to do. Harry, despite what you think, you're a fine wizard. You can defeat most anything or anyone," Hermione said, wrapping her arm around Harry's and pulling him near. 

"Most?" He hadn't missed that. 

"Not most. You can defeat anything that might be in here. Together, we're even more powerful," she said. 

Right now he didn't feel very powerful at all. He felt weary and lost. He felt like disappearing into one of these worlds and hoping no one ever found them. They could just have a life together here. They could do it and he would be happy. 

"Hermione, I love you," he said, his voice shaky with exhaustion. "We need some rest and we'll work this problem out. We'll put together a plan. I know we'll get out of here."

He kissed her on her cheek and she moved so that she could settle into his arms. Harry had no idea what he would do without her. Her love made all of this bearable. It made it so he didn't want to just give up and die. 

***********

After he went exploring (finding nothing of value or interest except a bag in which to carry his cloak) and they rested for a while, Harry and Hermione set off again. Since she was feeling better, Hermione could now keep up with Harry's pace and only stopped every fifty meters or so to look at something new. To her, this was just like when they started Hogwarts. There was something new around every corner. Only this time, she didn't have a history book to quote from. This time, they had to make it up as they went alone. 

None of this was familiar to Harry and he had no idea where they were headed, but he couldn't sit still and wait. There were brief moments, while she slept in his arms, he realized he could just stop searching for the escape and spend every day for the rest of his life right here with Hermione. He also know that wasn't really an option. Not yet. Not until they had exhausted all their options for finding Lupin and getting out of here again. 

Hermione reached for his hand and meshed her fingers with his. They walked side by side for the longest time, discussing the various properties of magic and physics that had to combine to create this place. Harry listened and added a few comments but all the while, his eyes searched around them, making sure they weren't being followed or approached from the woods surrounding them. 

"What if we never find anything? Or a way out? And what if Professor Dumbledore can't help us?" Hermione asked, swinging his hand in hers. "You have thought of it, haven't you?"

"No," he lied. "The last time I was in here, I found... her. Lupin found me. I'm sure we're going to run into something--"

The words weren't even out of his mouth and Harry felt something pulling at him. It was as if his whole form was changing -- melting, really -- and he gripped Hermione's hand tighter, pulling her towards him. 

"Hold on!" he said, knowing exactly what was happening. They slipped through a vortex, one far more gentle than the one they passed through between Hogwarts and here, and suddenly, they were somewhere else. Hermione was in his arms and this was a good thing because they didn't look so out of place that way.

"Oh, my!" was all Hermione could say. 

They were in a massive ballroom, surrounded by witches and wizards wearing their finest dress robes in every color imaginable. The room was gilded in gold and Harry realized the artist probably used gold leaf while painting because he couldn't imagine how else he would have gotten it to sparkle like that. And it was a painting of a rather fancy ball. Candles filled the air as did rather lively music.

No one seemed to have noticed them or their sudden entry but Hermione pulled his arms around her anyway so it looked like they were dancing like everyone else and they went with the gentle swirl of the crowd. 

"This is interesting. Have you ever seen this painting at Hogwarts before? I thought I saw all of them but I don't recognize this," Harry said. 

"No, I don't remember it." 

Hermione winced when he stepped on her toes but kept on dancing. 

It wasn't long before someone noticed them and their lack of formal attire. "I say, the least you could do is get your girl a proper gown and robes, young man," an elderly wizard said to Harry as they passed by. He was wearing bright purple while the woman he was dancing with was dressed in a hideous shade of orange.

"Thanks," Harry said with a shrug. 

"What are we going to do? Do you see a way out of here?" Hermione asked, standing on her toes long enough to see over the crowd. Or to keep Harry from stepping on them again. 

"There's a staircase over there but I have no idea where it might lead. I can't see any doors," he said, working it so they were getting closer to the outside of the crowd. They passed a large orchestra and then passed people sitting stiffly in formal chairs watching the dancers go by. 

"I'd hate to have to do this forever," Hermione said. both of them struggling to keep up. 

"Maybe they rest when the lights are turned off where the painting is hanging. Or maybe they never stop," Harry said, watching to see when they were drawing close to the grand staircase. As soon as they were in front of it, they pulled free from the dancing crowd and started to climb the steps, still holding hands just in case. 

"Now what?" Hermione asked. When they had reached the top of the long staircase, they found a seemingly endless hallway lined with doors. Hundreds of doors. They were all the same, white with gold trim and gold handles. They could end up anywhere just by opening one. 

Harry turned around and looked at the dance going on and was sure this was their only way out. All the walls of the ballroom appeared to be solid . Then he faced the doors again. No one was coming in or out of any of them. Pulling his wand out of his back pocket, he held it in front of him, prepared for anything. Hermione did the same and they walked down the hallway. 

"Which door should we try first. Right or left side of the hall?" she asked, stepping close to the first one on her left. 

"Go ahead and open it," Harry said, unsure that any other door would be a better option. Hermione put her hand on the knob and briefly pulled it away. 

"It feels funny," she said, grabbing the knob again and twisting it. Harry quickly grasped onto her arm just in case this led them somewhere else. It didn't. All that was behind the door was a dark, empty room. There was no furniture. No windows. It was as if the artist hadn't even considered what might be in the room. "What if they're all like this?"

"We'll have to find another way, then," Harry said. He tried the next doorknob while Hermione held onto his sleeve. She was right -- the doorknob did feel funny. It tingled in Harry's hand and he wasn't sure what that meant. 

"Nothing here," he said, going onto the next. They kept it up for nearly an hour and the hallway seemed to be growing. Door after door yielded nothing. They would walk into the dark rooms only to find it led nowhere, not even as a portal to some other painting. 

"We could go back and dance," Hermione suggested, smiling ever so slightly. Harry tried another door and shook his head. 

"No more dancing, please."

"It wasn't that bad," Hermione said. "Besides, I'm the one who was getting stepped on."

"All the more reason to not go back and dance," Harry said. He grabbed another doorknob and Hermione put a hand on his shoulder. This doorknob felt different. It didn't tingle. He grasped his wand and looked at Hermione. She must have sensed something because her wand was held up high in her free hand. 

"Should we skip this door?" 

"What if it's the one we need? What if it leads us back? Or to Ron?"

"What if it doesn't?" Hermione asked. They both thought about it for a second before deciding. "You're right. Open it."

Harry opened the door and immediately regretted his decision. He tried to pull it shut but it wouldn't move. He tried to say something... anything... but the words wouldn't come out his mouth. One of the figures in the room had no problem speaking at all. 

"How nice of you to finally join us, Potter. We've been waiting for you." 

To Be Continued...


	12. Chapter 12

Harry finally found his words. Or rather, one word. "Run!" he shouted to Hermione, backing up and taking her hand in his as he tore off down the hallway and back toward the staircase. He wasn't going to take a chance on any of these rooms. 

Hermione almost stumbled going down the stairs but he caught her in his arms and when they reached the bottom, they both tried to get lost in the dancing crowd. He could barely catch his breath to tell her what was going on. 

"The girl... did you see her? She is Elladora Black or at least a painting of her. I'm sure you know Mr. Rowntree since you once wanted to sleep with his kid," Harry said, keeping his eyes on the staircase. Mr. Rowntree was now standing on the top step, scanning the crowd. 

"That doesn't really matter now, does it?" Hermione asked. "Move in that direction. I think I see something."

Harry spun them around so he could see what she was talking about. The walls of the ballroom were lined with massive paintings and with mirrors, all in ornate gold frames. It was hard to tell them apart since the paintings were also of a ballroom with dancers circling around. A painting in a painting. 

"You think this will work?" Harry asked Hermione. 

"Do we have any choice?" she said. Harry looked back at the staircase to see Mr. Rowntree rushing down, his eyes looking in their direction. He knew they had no choices. Rowntree was certainly in this with Voldemort. He had to be close but Harry couldn't sense it. He couldn't feel him. Were things different in here? Was that connection lost in this world? 

"Whatever happens, I won't let them hurt you, Hermione," he said and she looked at him wide-eyed. 

"We're doing this together," she said, holding on to him tightly. "We either stay here together or find a way out together but you aren't going to face them alone."

"I don't want you to get hurt. I won't let that happen," he said. 

"Then we better hope this works," Hermione said, grabbing him by the hand and making a mad dash toward one of the paintings on the wall. 

"Stop them!" they heard cried out over the crowd but no one stopped. No one seemed to care about anything but their endless dance. 

They hit the painting hard and ending up slipping through, but this time there was no vortex. They just slipped through and into another room nearly like the last one they were in. This one had fewer people and a lot less detail. 

"Over there! Keep running!" Harry ordered, and Hermione did as he said. "The doors don't work but this does." 

He turned around to see a painting of the last painting. He could see the dancers and he could see Mr. Rowntree moving toward the canvas. This wouldn't last forever but it gave them time. Or maybe not...

Elladora was approaching them quickly from the other side of the room. Obviously she knew how everything worked in here. She was part of this strange world. They reached another portrait and slipped through again. This world was even less detailed than the last one. People were moving past them but it was hard to tell one from the next. 

"We're running out of options," Hermione said, stating the obvious. This room had no paintings on the wall. Instead, this room was solid all around. 

"There has to be something," Harry said, refusing to give up. He hadn't come this far to let them get him like this. It was then that he noticed a girl striding rather purposefully in their direction. She looked familiar but he couldn't quite place her. She was wearing Quidditch robes that fell off her shoulders and she was carrying a broom that towered over her head. 

Harry looked around, thankful that Elladora or Mr. Rowntree hadn't found them. So far. 

"Harry, Hermione, come with me. Quickly!" the little girl said as soon as she reached them. She turned from them, her Appleby Arrows robes swirling around her tiny frame, and it was then that Harry knew who she was. 

"Zoila!" he said, racing to keep up with her. 

"What?" Hermione asked. "Who? How?"

"Zoila... oh, you know Zoila Witherite! This must be her... this must be a painting of her when she was younger," Harry said, struggling to catch his breath and keep up with the girl. They reached a rather unremarkable spot in the room and Zoila stopped and turned to them. 

"Hold on to me and to each other," Zoila told them and they did as she instructed. Harry took Hermione's hand in his and held onto Zoila's robes. She took a step and Harry felt the vortex start up again, ready to take them elsewhere. He had no idea where they might end up next but he trusted the young girl. He had no choice at this point. 

After the swirl and pull was over and Harry made sure Hermione was still with them, he looked around, trying to figure out where they were. It was some grassy plain, with large animals all around them. 

"Come this way and hurry," Zoila said, and they did just what she said. They hadn't gone far when she stopped. "Hold on again. We're going through."

This happened several times until they went through one last vortex and where obviously where they needed to be. 

"Hogwarts! We're home!" he said. Except they couldn't be. Zoila in her painted form was still standing beside them. 

"Home if you went to Hogwarts in 1490," Zoila said, walking purposefully toward the castle. Harry and Hermione hurried to keep up with her. It really didn't look that much different than it did now, Harry thought, noticing the students milling around the outside in the painted sunlight. They were dressed differently of course, but they still wore robes and many had an armful of books. 

Books, he realized, that very few other children their age during this time period would have been holding. The wizarding world did have a few advantages. If you had to make a potion, you needed the directions.

They entered through the double oak doors and immediately went to the staircase leading to the dungeons. Zoila was racing before them, not bothered by the darkness that seemed to envelope the interior of the castle. Harry held Hermione's hand as they carefully made their way down the stairs. 

Harry noticed that the dungeons were nothing like what they were at his Hogwarts. They were still just as dim and cold but none of them seemed to serve as classrooms. It looked more like an actual dungeon and he could only imagine what Filch would do in a place like this. 

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked as Zoila led them down a darkened corridor. 

"Here," she said, stopping in front of a rather formidable door. Harry expected to find more darkness behind it but when Zoila knocked and then entered, he was surprised to find a bright room decorated in flowers and unicorns. It looked like Hermione's bedroom. Obviously something strange was going on or the artist of this painting had some sense of humor. 

It was then that Harry noticed Remus Lupin standing at the other side of the room. And next to him stood Ron. 

"We were wondering if you were ever going to show up," Ron said, smiling. 

"Ron!" Hermione cried out, running to him and giving him a huge hug. Harry joined her, hugging not only Ron but Lupin, too. 

"Thank you, Zoila," Lupin said. The girl nodded and smiled before moving away to stand with the others in the room. Harry recognized a few of them but many more were unfamiliar to him. 

"I was afraid we had lost you forever," Hermione said to Ron and he shrugged, embarrassed by her overwhelming display of affection. 

"Zoila... or rather, her painted form... has learned well how to make her way around this world. As soon as Ginny reported what we had done, Professor McGonagall somehow got a message through and she found me. You and Hermione weren't so easy to find since you started moving right away," Ron explained. 

"Professor McGonagall knows about this?" Harry asked, turning to Lupin, who nodded. "Do the other members of the Order know?"

"There have been plans in place for a while now. Part of that was you staying at Hogwarts... the real Hogwarts. Why did you come back here, Harry? I told you not to when you left," Lupin said, giving Harry a disapproving look. "I warned you that you would be far safer out of here."

"Don't blame him," Hermione said, defending Harry. "He didn't remember anything that had happened here. He wanted to come back to help you."

"I'm sure Elladora Black had a lot to do with my memory," Harry said. "She's the one who lured me back to this place."

"Ah, yes. Ella. I should have known she had something to do with this. She knows her way around this world as well as anyone," Lupin said. 

"What's going on here, anyway?" Hermione asked, looking around at the people filling up the room. 

"They didn't manage to freeze all the portraits and paintings everywhere, Hermione. Many wizarding families have portraits hanging in their homes or tucked away in attics and cellars. Many more of the people in those portraits are on our side than on theirs but they do have supporters, too," Lupin explained, never really answering the question. Harry looked at him, trying to work it all out in his head. 

"An army! You're creating an army of sorts!" Harry blurted out. 

"Of sorts," Ron said with a snort. "Not of sorts, mate. This is the real thing."

"But they're creating an army also, right?" Hermione surmised. 

"I'm afraid so. They have some powerful and dark magic behind them but we have quite a bit of determination," Lupin said. All around them, figures were scurrying about, doing jobs and gathering supplies. 

"What is the plan? How are you going to stop them from getting to me? And Hermione and Ron?" Harry asked, looking down at his feet. He felt rather stupid for walking back into this trap now that he realized he didn't have to help Lupin to escape. Lupin was doing just fine on his own. 

"Yes, Harry, it would have been easier if you and your friends weren't here. We had managed to block their methods of escape. We also have been blocking off their passageways through the paintings. Of course, that closes off our way around the paintings, too. A few of the portraits, like Zoila, can find openings between painted worlds that aren't commonly used. I'm not sure how she can sense them, but she can and she can do it very well. There are others who are good at is as well, like Ella. And there are other things you need to know," Lupin said. 

"You can say that again," Ron said, but before Lupin had a chance to explain, Hermione started asking questions. 

"How do you explain all of this? This world is brilliant! How was it started? How does it flourish and grow?" Hermione asked and Harry could tell she had a thousand more questions behind the ones she asked. 

"Magic?" Lupin answered with a slight grin. "Hermione, we'll probably never understand all of it. The artist somehow infuses the portrait with an essence of the subject. They are something like that person at that moment in time. They know what's going on outside their frame but they never really change. Take the Fat Lady for instance. She's been guarding Gryffindor tower for years and she knows that students come and go and she knows what's going on but she is still the Fat Lady from the moment she was painted. It really is hard to understand. I'm not sure anyone ever will."

"The Rowntrees seem to understand it just fine," Harry said. 

"Dark magic, Harry. That is how they're doing it. That, and from what we can tell, they have the help of Voldemort," Lupin said. Harry noticed how everyone around them quieted down at the mention of that name. "He's been in here the last few weeks, causing quite a lot of damage. That is why I wanted you to stay out. I was hoping to trap him in here forever."

"Why can't we now?" Hermione asked and Lupin sighed. 

"I can only do it if I get the three of you out of here first and I'm not so sure I can manage getting anyone out again..."

"That's why you sent me away! Why couldn't I remember that! I'm so stupid!" Harry said, mad at himself now. 

"I still don't see what the difference is. We can still trap Voldemort in here, right?" Hermione asked. 

"Only if you want to spend the rest of you life in here, too. With Voldemort," Lupin answered. 

None of them said anything else for quite a while. Harry was trying to work this all out in his mind. He remembered much of what happened the last time he was here but it was still fuzzy. He had been with Elladora most of the time and then Lupin found him. She must have been keeping him away from any other portraits or any source of help. She must have been taking him to Voldemort. Then Lupin showed up and he probably ruined whatever plans everyone had for him. Ella had to lure him back in knowing he'd never be able to get out if Lupin's plans went forward. But if he couldn't get out, then Lupin...

"You never planned to get out of here again, did you?" Harry demanded. The look on Lupin's face was the only answer he needed. "What! You can't be serious?"

"There is no other way, Harry. I have my reasons. I need to protect you, I need to protect Hogwarts and I need to stop Voldemort. I am a member of the Order and that is my duty," Lupin said. 

"There is something else, too, isn't there?" Hermione asked. She stood between Harry and Ron, her arms crossed over her chest. 

"Always so clever. Yes, Hermione, there is something else. In here, depending on where I am, there necessarily isn't a full moon. All this time, I haven't had to worry about anything. I've been myself again," Lupin said, wistfully. "It's all I've wanted for years and now I can have it."

"But... but you..." Harry tried to come up with a good reason why Lupin needed to come back out with him and Hermione but every reason was a selfish one. He has already lost Sirius. He didn't want to lose another friend. 

It was then that Harry noticed another portrait come through the door. The reason he noticed it was because it was... Hermione? Someone followed her through the door and it was him! The portrait was a little younger than he was but not by much. He had never sat for a portrait. Living with the Dursley's, he never even has a photographic portrait done let alone a painting. He nudged Hermione and her jaw dropped at the sight of the two of them walking in the direction of Lupin. 

"Drew! He liked to draw and paint. He painted me and sent it to Hogwarts. I sent it back to him. Oh no! I can't believe it," Hermione said, her face in her hand. It was an amazing likeness, Harry noted, and then looked at himself. 

"And Drew made a painting of me?" Harry asked. The two portrait versions of them stopped next to Lupin and looked Harry and Hermione over before smiling brightly. 

"I see Zoila found them," portrait Hermione said. 

"She is good," portrait Harry said but it wasn't Harry's voice. It wasn't even Harry, Harry realized on closer inspection. Lupin looked at Harry and then at the portrait figure who was smiling so brightly and focusing intently on Harry. He could feel the world start to spin faster around him and his knees went weak. Lupin put his hand on Harry's shoulder before replying. 

"Yes, James. She is good. But not as good as you are."

-^-^-^-

Harry found the best thing he could do was hide. He had plenty of things to hide from but he never imagined one of them would be his father. It was just easier this way. At least for the moment. He peered around the corner to find Hermione talking to his dad while Ron was chatting up the other Hermione. It was all too much for him. He stopped watching them and went back to staring at a blank wall. He sighed and buried his head in his arms, working through all the emotions coursing through him. 

Someone walked across the room and was standing over him and he almost told them to leave him alone until he realized it was Lupin. He looked up at him briefly before putting his head back down. 

“You should really get to know him,” Lupin said, kneeling down beside Harry. 

“He's not my father.”

“No, not exactly. But he is a version of your father. He is, perhaps, the closest you'll ever get to meeting the real James Potter,” Lupin said. He reached out and put his hand on Harry's arm. 

“I don't know what to say to him. Who does he think I am? What does he know?” 

“He knows more than you think. He knows who you are and he is thrilled that you are here. James already knew Lily when this portrait was done. He... this image of him... was happy to find out that he and your mother had you, no matter the end results. And Harry, he knows what happened when you were a baby. I told him already so you don't have to worry about that. He's more concerned with protecting you than he is about what happens in his future,” Lupin said soothingly. 

The two remained silent for a while, Harry still not sure what to say to a version of his father that didn't look much older than he was now. He knew Lupin was right and this was his best chance to at least get to know a part of him but the thought terrified him as much as it excited him. 

“Are you two working on some plans I should know about?” a vaguely familiar male voice asked. 

Harry glanced up to find his dad standing next to his girlfriend and it was like looking at a photograph of Hermione and him together. 

“I have had a few ideas, James. Now that Harry and Hermione are here along with you and Hermione's twin over there, I do have some ideas on how we might just be able to use the fact that we have doubles to our advantage,” Lupin said. He stood up and Harry scurried to his feet, too. He looked into his dad's eyes and struggled to swallow the lump in his throat as James smiled at him. This could be interesting after all. 

-^-^-^-

 

“She's a lovely girl, Harry. And I never knew there would ever be someone as bright as Lily, but I do believe you found her,” James said. Harry could feel his ears turn pink and yet he was happy. He never imagined that he'd ever be carrying on a conversation about his girlfriend with his dad. Never thought he'd have the chance to share just what a wonderful person he found with anyone other than friends. 

He looked toward Hermione, who was bickering with the painted Hermione. He had to laugh a little at how the two of them fought about the best way to do things. Hermione had finally met her match, and it was Hermione. Ron had his work cut out for them breaking up their squabbles. 

“How did you know mum was the one?” Harry asked, hoping his father had come to that realization at the point this portrait was made. 

“I just knew there wasn't another woman who would put up with as much as I made her put up with. I knew that she would follow me to the ends of the earth even if I didn't deserve that much. Don't get me wrong, I don't know why she would do that. Other... boys... were interested in her. But we just belonged together,” James answered. 

Harry wasn't sure if he was going to be with Hermione for the rest of their lives. He wasn't even sure how long the rest of their lives might be. He knew they both had things they wanted to do and what if there were other people out there? What if she came to realize just how beautiful and wonderful she was and that should could do better? 

He shook his head and looked his dad in the eyes. “You were lucky you were so sure. I still don't know most days what tomorrow will even bring.”

“No one knows, Harry. No one. You just have to live one day at a time and not take it for granted. Not one bit of it,” James said, nodding towards Hermione. Ron was pulling the painted Hermione away from the real one, calming town the turmoil for now. His Hermione had her arms crossed over her chest as she huffed and glowered about something. 

“I better go see what's going on,” Harry said, leaving his father's side and walking cautiously toward his girlfriend. “Anything wrong?”

“She is so stubborn!” Hermione said, pointing at the image of herself walking away.

“No, really? You're joking?” Harry said, trying to hold back a smile. 

“No, I'm not! She thinks she knows everything and is always trying to show me something from one of my books and she wants to change all the plans... oh, stop it!” she exclaimed when Harry couldn't hold his laughter in any longer. 

“I think I'm falling in love with her. She is my type of girl,” Harry said and Hermione pursed her lips. “Oh, wait. I already have one like that.”

“Ron never leaves her side, though,” Hermione said, nodding in the direction of the two of them. “He never paid that much attention to me.”

“Jealous?” Harry asked, not sure he wanted to hear the answer. 

“I don't really know,” Hermione answered quietly before turning her full attention back to Harry. “I'm not too sure about some of these proposals. They want us to hide out while James and... that... that other Hermione lure out Voldemort. Lupin thinks that's the best way to try to trap him in here and get out us safely. I think he already knows he won't be able to keep him in here forever but it will give you time to be able to defend yourself against him properly. You aren't ready to face him yet.”

“Don't you think I should decide that?” Harry asked, upset that this had all been decided for him while he had been spending time with his father. 

“You think you are?” she asked, not covering the doubt in her voice. 

“You don't think I am?” 

“I don't know. If we're together, I suppose...”

“Thanks.”

“Oh, Harry. Don't pout about it. He's so powerful and Lupin is trying to keep you safe. We all are,” Hermione said, placing a gentle hand on his arm. He pulled away. 

“I'm going to have to face him someday. Why not now?” Harry asked. He wasn't sure what he was getting so upset about. He knew that facing down Voldemort wasn't going to be easy. It never was. He just didn't want to hear that she doubted his ability to keep them safe and to get rid of the one person who came between them and any future they might have. 

“Voldemort will probably see right through this and you'll get your chance, but we have to try this first. I think James really wants to do everything he can to keep you safe. So does Lupin. I think they feel as if they have failed you all these years...”

“No one has failed me. I'm the one who has made life unsafe for those around me! I'm the one who is the reason this is all happening in the first place,” Harry said a little too loudly. Everyone turned to look at them and Hermione pulled him closer to him. 

“Always going off and being the chosen one, right? The Boy Who Lived and all that? I don't think so. We're all in this together and it's not just about you anymore, Harry. It's about this way of life. It's about what we are,” Hermione said to him in hushed tones. “It's about having a life worth living once we get out of here. We'll try their plan first. If it doesn't work, you and I will come up with another plan. We always do.”

-^-^-^-

“You absolutely must stay here, do you understand me?” Lupin told Harry as the two of them argued once more over the plans to contain Voldemort. Harry still didn't agree with any of it. He wasn't sure why it was so important that he stay behind but he was sure the orders were coming somehow from Dumbledore. Why else would Lupin be so strict in his orders?

“I can help!” Harry pleaded once again. They had been in this painted world for several days now and he was beginning to work it all out with the help of his father. With Hermione learning spells specific to only this place as fast as she could, they would be a force to contend with. Tonks was now with them, having made it through the portal. She was standing a few feet away, staring at Lupin. Harry had heard her tell him she couldn't leave him alone in here. He wasn't sure what that was all about. 

“It's not the right time.” Lupin said, walking away towards Tonks, leaving Harry as frustrated as ever. 

Harry was growing tired of hearing that but it was Lupin's mantra the last few days. He wasn't sure when the right time was going to come or what giant parts of some secret plan he wasn't be told about this time but all he wanted to do was to end this now and go on with his life. 

He wanted to get out of here and back to the real Hogwarts. He wanted to finish his year and just be normal again. He had a taste of it and he desperately wanted it back. This world behind the canvases was fascinating but it wasn't home. Harry was tired of worrying about when he might slip into a different painting. He was tired of the smell of paint that permeated everything. He was tired of not being able to get a minute alone to think about anything without someone, real or painted, checking up on him. 

The only good part was that at least he was with his two best friends and that he got to spend this time with his dad. James Potter was teaching him how to move between paintings in ways not even other paintings knew. He was showing Hermione ways to work magic that amused her and kept her busy. He was always telling stories about his first days at Hogwarts and his best friend Sirius and how he hoped Harry would one day be able to find the frame his canvas was in and give it a proper home. 

“All I can tell you is I'm stuck in some attic behind a box of old Christmas ornaments. Muggles, I believe, but I could be wrong. Somewhere not far from Godric's Hollow,” James told him and it wasn't really a lot to go on but Harry was willing to search for as long as it took. 

He walked away from a group of people all listening to Lupin's latest orders and sneaked out the big oak doorway. Harry didn't know where he was going but he wanted to get away. It wasn't long before he heard light footsteps echoing behind and he pulled out his wand, facing his stalker. 

“Put it away, Harry! It's only me!” Hermione said, stepping closer to him. They were underneath a torch suspended from the castle wall, it's blue flame flickering endlessly in someone's painted version of Hogwarts. 

“Sorry,” he said, tucking his wand away. 

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“I had to get out of there. Just for a few minutes. I had to be alone,” he said, taking a step back from her. Since ending up here, they had very little time to even talk to each other alone. Hermione was too busy learning everything she could about this place or bickering with the other Hermione and Harry was too busy being mad that his participation didn't seem to be required. 

Before he could too far from her, she reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him into a soft embrace. 

“Do you still want to be alone?” she asked, her breath hot next to his ear. There was no time for this and he knew it but then again, they didn't seem to want him to participate in what they were doing anyway. They'd be in trouble if they were found out stealing away like this, but how would they be punished? Not allowed to try to stop Voldemort and his followers? Locked up in this castle? They already were as far as Harry was concerned. 

“That depends on the company,” Harry said, his lips brushing against her cheek. 

“We don't have a lot of time before someone will notice we're both gone,” Hermione said, pulling him toward a room off of the corridor. 

“I don't need a lot of time,” Harry said, willing to follow her anywhere. Hermione laughed and Harry blushed. “That's not what I meant. I meant... oh, who cares?”

She closed the heavy door to the room she chose, leaving them completely in a sea of darkness. It didn't matter. He knew her so well that he could be blindfolded and still be able to find every spot on her body that made her moan with pleasure. He could sense where she was without being able to see a thing. 

The room that surrounded them was Hogwarts but yet it wasn't. It didn't have that dank smell but rather smelled of paint and canvas and the fumes in this closed room were more than a little intoxicating. Harry's thoughts began to spin as Hermione tugged his jumper over his head and tossed it aside. They were still walking, Hermione leading the way, and Harry wasn't sure where they were going. Her fingers fumbled with the button on his jeans and he couldn't move anymore. They sank to their knees, hands exploring, mouths now joined in a deep kiss. 

Hermione pushed him onto his back, pulling his jeans and pants down past his hips. He was already hard and ready for whatever she wanted to do to him. He closed his eyes even though they were already in the dark when she drew him into her mouth and he groaned out his pleasure. 

“Hermione,” Harry said, his fingers twisting into her long hair. She took him in as far as she could and then let him nearly slip free from her mouth. “Oh, Hermione...”

She didn't stop and he was afraid he really wouldn't last that long. They didn't have long but he wanted to make it longer than one minute. 

“Come here,” Harry said, pulling Hermione away. In the darkness, he helped her strip out of her jeans and knickers and then pulled her on top of him. Without any fumbling around, he slipped into her body and she moaned as she settled down, her body fitting perfectly around him. She leaned forward just enough that her hair brushed across him and he wrapped one hand around her tiny waist and the other one found the apex between her legs that made her moan now, too. It was fast and dark and all he could do was try to keep up with her and keep focused. He couldn't. His head was spinning and he couldn't do anything more. 

He felt as if lightning was moving through both of them and around the room as they came. Her body shuddered above him and he thrust into her one last time. Lightning. Buzzing. Fast. Hot. 

He gasped and then she slip off of him, kissing him again. Still hot. Still so damn hot. The room was getting brighter and he couldn't figure out why. Neither of them had their wands handy and Harry certainly hadn't heard Hermione light a little blue flame in the past few minutes. 

“Either that was the best sex ever or something is happening,” she said in between kisses, both of their bodies still humming.

“Although I'd like to think it was the first thing, I'm certain it's the second,” Harry said. Hermione moved beside him and they both looked around the room. The lightning wasn't only inside of them but the room flickered with tiny pulses. The two of them pulled on their clothes as quickly as possible and hurried towards the door. 

They had both just made it out of the door when the whole room turned into a flashing ball of light before dissolving away. 

-^-^-^-

“We have to make our move,” Lupin said, looking at the empty space that used to be part of the painting. “I don't know what is going on but that's something I haven't seen before. Maybe they're causing it.”

“Do we know where they are?” James asked. Lupin's eyes flashed to Harry and then back to James. Harry knew that this meant he wasn't going to say anything in front of him that would tell too much. Harry had his orders and he was supposed to stick to them.

“Certain members know,” Lupin answered before turning to face Hermione. “What were the two of you doing in here anyway?”

“We were just talking,” Hermione and Harry answered at the same time, their voices both sounding guilty. 

Ron scoffed behind them. Even painted Hermione, who was standing right next to Ron, let out a faint laugh. Tonks nodded, as if she understood the need to sneak away. 

“No more... talking,” Lupin said, his eyes looking over the disheveled state the two of them were in. “You need to stay with the group, especially you Harry. If we lose you now with all of them out there somewhere, I don't even want to imagine what might happen.”

“I'm sorry. It's my fault,” said Hermione, taking Harry's hand in hers. “I wanted to discuss something with Harry. Something important.”

Lupin said nothing in return but thankfully he had stopped looking them up and down and making Harry feel so guilty. He instead focused on the room again. 

“I don't think this is caused by dark magic. I'm not sure what caused it but it was powerful,” Lupin said as he and James continued to investigate. “It might be useful if we could figure out where it came from”

“With the way magic is manipulated in this world, it might be impossible to ever tell how that happened,” Hermione said. Painted Hermione nodded in agreement and started to tell everyone about some of the magic she had learned since her creation but real Hermione cut her off. “I'll look into it further later.”

-^-^-^-

“Snape and Moody are setting up a perimeter on the outside,” Harry heard Tonks explaining to Lupin. “We should be able to trap him in here, Remus. It might not be forever but it will buy us time. The more time Harry has to grow to be a stronger wizard, the better.”

He was supposed to be sleeping but he found out quickly he learned so much more if he faked it and listened into the conversations others had while they didn't think he was listening. 

“You will have to go out with the kids. You can't stay here,” Lupin said to her and Harry expected Tonks to follow his orders. He had to. 

“You know I'm not leaving you, Remus. I can't. You know how I feel about you,” she said and Harry drew in his breath, holding it while all the pieces fell in the place in his mind. That's why she was here instead of Professor Snape or Moody. 

“I can't ask you to give up your life out there...”

“You are my life now. I'd willingly give it up for you,” she said and Harry exhaled so loudly they had to have heard him. He heard rustling and someone moving away. “Anyway, we'll discuss this further later on. After we get these other plans started.”

It was all he could do not to wake up Hermione to tell her what he heard. When he finally did mention it to her in the morning, she just rolled her eyes at him. “I already knew that. You should have seen the state she was in when he went in to rescue you and didn't come out. She wanted to come with then. I'm sure there was no stopping her this time.” 

“Am I always the last to know things?” Harry asked, looking at all the people milling around the room. 

“No, usually it's Ron,” Hermione said with a shrug. 

-^-^-^-

“This isn't your battle to fight, Harry. Not yet,” James said, but Harry was still fighting the idea that he and the real Hermione were just going to let all these other people put themselves in any kind of danger. “You, Ron and Hermione have to make it to the portal while painted Hermione and I distract Voldemort. You have to get to safety.”

“But if I can kill him now...”

“You can't,” his father said and it angered him. Why did everything suddenly think he was so weak? “You are a wonderful wizard, Harry, but it's just not time.”

“When will it be time? How does everyone else seem to know it's not time except me?” Harry said, not hiding the anger and disappointment in his voice. 

Lupin spoke up now, knowing James wasn't getting through. “Because there is more for you to do out there. More that you don't even know about yet. Dumbledore will explain it to you...”

“Oh, sure! Dumbledore has been so great at explaining it all to me so far!” Harry said. He felt like screaming and pounding the walls. The look on Hermione's face told him not to. 

“Voldemort doesn't care if he kills you now or next week. But in order to kill him, certain things have to happen. That's all I can tell you,” Lupin said sternly. 

Hermione took his hand and turned him around. Ron was next to her, staring at his shoes. “You have to trust them, Harry. You have to. More and more of the paintings are collapsing and they are getting close. If they find you, they will kill you. He will have won. Nothing will stop him from taking over this world and ours. Nothing.”

“Okay, I get it,” Harry said with resignation. He turned back to the other group and asked, “What is it you want me to do?”

“You'll have to get back to a portal as quickly as possible. Zoila can lead you. I'd rather have James lead you but he'll be busy elsewhere. He and the other Hermione will distract them... keep him chasing after them for a while. Tonks and I will see what we can do to keep him trapped in here but I'm not sure how long we can hold him. The most important thing is for you to get out, Harry. Do you understand me?” Lupin asked. Harry begrudgingly nodded. He'd rather stay and fight but what if Lupin was right and there was more he had to do before Voldemort could be destroyed? He had to go do it. 

“It won't be easy, Harry,” Tonks added. James nodded in agreement. “It won't take them long to figure out we have decoys. You might have to fight your way out but get out.”

“And you?” Ron asked. Harry and Hermione looked at each other at the same time Remus and Tonks looked at each other. Harry forgot to tell him. 

“We'll take care of each other.”

-^-^-^-

Saying goodbye to his father was harder than he imagined it would be. Yes, he knew it wasn't really his dad but he had grown close to him over the last few days. Sirius was gone. Lupin would be gone. And now James would be gone once again. 

“I will try to find you,” Harry said, not wanting to let this moment go. The painted Hermione was waiting off to the side, looking rather impatient. His Hermione was further back, giving him all the time he needed as she went about packing up any supplies they might need during their escape attempt. 

“I remembering seeing a church steeple through the window,” James said, referring to the attic in which his painting had been lost over the years. “I'll be waiting for you there.”

“Okay,” Harry said, holding back the tears. Everything was moving too quickly. The paintings were fading into nothing so fast they were worried whether they'd still be able to find a path through them. Lupin was worried they'd never fool anyone with their decoys. 

“I have to go, Harry,” James said and Harry hugged him tight before letting him go and watching him walk away with the other Hermione. 

“We have to go fast,” Zoila said, pulling her Quidditch robes back on her tiny shoulders. “Hermione, do you have everything packed up?”

“I'm ready,” Hermione said, turning to watch James and the other her walk out of this portrait and into who knows where. Harry watched, too, until there was nothing more to see. 

“You'll see him again, Harry,” Lupin said, placing a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder. 

“But will I ever see you?” Harry asked, not wanting to look him in the eye just yet. Not until the tears stopped falling. 

“I don't know. I hope so but I don't know.” With that, Harry turned around and hugged Remus Lupin tight. Lupin hugged back just as hard. 

“I hope everything works out for you,” he said through his tears. 

“I have a feeling everything is going to be okay, Harry. Now get going. You have to hurry,” Lupin said. With that, he released him and walked away. 

-^-^-^-

“Keep up!” Zoila shouted and Harry, Hermione and Ron raced after her. 

“Is she always this bossy?” Hermione asked and Ron shrugged. 

“Maybe she was a very bossy eight year old. I have no idea,” Harry answered. “I'll ask when we see her again. The real her.”

They zipped from landscape to landscape, following their little leader as she took them quickly from one world to another. Hermione was still fascinated by it all but now she hardly had time to look at anything before they were somewhere else. 

The three of them all held their wands at the ready, never know who they might run into on the next turn. So far there had been no interference and they hoped that James and the other Hermione had done their job. 

“This way... we're almost there. Just... here,” Zoila said as they stepped into a one more scene. Sometimes there was a vortex. Sometimes there wasn't. This time there was, and Harry grabbed Hermione's hand. They all landed on the floor in an impossibly dark room and clamored to get up. 

“Going somewhere?” a voice Harry recognized immediately asked from behind them. “I thought you came back here for me, Harry. Instead you try to trick us all. Shameful, really.”

“Ella...” he said as she walked in front of them all. It was still dark but he could sense perfectly where she was. 

“You don't have to worry about looking for your father's portrait now, Harry. He's never going to show up in that frame again,” Elladora Black said before she laughed gleefully. Harry was ready to do whatever it took to scratch her off the face of the world but Hermione was holding his wand arm down. He didn't know how to destroy her in here but he'd find out once they got out. 

“What is it you want?” Harry asked, his voice cold now. 

“I want you to die. But alas, I promised I wouldn't be the one to kill you.” She lit a tiny light in the room and it took a moment for everyone's eyes to adjust. “Too bad, really. After all the promises you made to me before, I'd love to be the one to cause your slow and painful death.”

Hermione was still holding his arm tightly while he could see that Ron was holding on to her other arm. He looked at Zoila and she gave him a sign they often used in Quidditch. A sign that meant move now or you're going to get killed by a Bludger. Harry nodded at her and hoped she would be okay once they were gone, stuck in this room with Elladora Black. As if she could sense what he was thinking, she gave him a smile, and shrug and then stepped back, opening one more tear in the world. 

The three friends dove through as fast as they could, hearing a scream of “No!” coming from afar before they heard nothing but the joyous laughter of Ginny Weasley welcoming them back to the real Hogwarts. 

-^-^-^-

The attic was filled with plumes of dust and Harry was certain no one had been up here for years. Every move he made sent up more dust dancing in the weak beams of light fighting to make it through the dirty windows. They were near Godric's Hollow and he could see a steeple from here. It was the only house with this view for miles. Luckily, the house was empty and he and Hermione didn't have to make up some ridiculous story about why they needed to see the attic. 

She helped him yank some sheets off of what was left behind. An old baby pram. A rocking chair. An impossibly large steamer truck. When they found that, he got excited, pulling it aside and finding what he had hoped he would find. 

A frame. A plain wooden frame with an empty oil canvas in it. 

He gently pulled it free from where it had been stuck and blew the dust off of it. This had to be it. There would be no reason for a Muggle to have such a thing. It looked like the other paintings at Hogwarts when their occupants were off talking to other painted friends. 

Wrapping it gingerly in one of the sheets, he and Hermione took it down out of the attic and back to Hogwarts. Hermione kept it in her room, where Harry could sit and wait to see if James Potter ever returned to it or if Elladora Black was telling the truth. 

They had no word from inside that world since they got back. The portraits all seemed to know nothing and if they did, they were too scared to talk. The portal they came through was frozen again. Perhaps Lupin instructed painting Zoila to do that. Perhaps he did it himself. Harry didn't know. He hoped his friend was living a good life in their with Tonks. A life without worrying about the full moon. 

Everything wasn't easy since Harry got back to Hogwarts. There had been no sightings of Voldemort or the Rowntree family and things seemed peaceful for now. Especially after the frame was with the girl in violet was taken out of Hogwarts and destroyed. She'd never bother him here again. 

Then he heard from Dumbledore what he was going to have to do in order to end this thing, he almost wished he had just let him trap him and kill him in the paintings. Death seemed easier than what was before him. He wasn't ready to share any of it with his friends yet. He had to much to think about. Too much to think about an no one to help him with his thoughts right now. 

Then again, had he died, he wouldn't have Hermione at his side, trying to catch up once again on her homework while planning the next best thing. Their next adventure. And Ron wanting to go play Quidditch with him this afternoon with Ginny tagging along. 

“You can't stare at that forever,” Hermione said, shoving his books at him, hoping to help him catch up on his studies before the Christmas holidays. He knew she had plans for him for Christmas but not if he failed potions. “He'll show up.”

Harry could hardly believe how all of this turned out. Hermione and her plans brought him back together with his father if only for a brief time. It had hopefully led Remus Lupin and Tonks to a life together where he didn't have to worry about his problem. It had trapped Voldemort somewhere, giving Harry the time he needed to figure out what he had to do next. 

But most of all, it had given him her. 

And one quiet evening right before Christmas, when the room was cold and they were curled up around each other in her bed, Harry heard the voice he had been waiting for. 

“Hey, Harry. You found me!” his father called from his frame. “Do I have a story to tell you!”

His heart pounding with happiness, Harry kissed his sleeping girlfriend on her cheek and, wrapped in a quilt, settled himself on the floor to listen. 

-^-^-^-

The End

Not necessarily the ending I dreamed of a decade a go but alas, an ending.


End file.
